Alternate Endings
by StarsKeptMarching
Summary: The story of Wanted rewritten to give Fox the attention she deserved and, hopefully, please Fox/Wesley fans. This is my first fic so please read and review.
1. Why Couldn't She be a Lawyer?

**Disclaimer: _I do not own wanted._**

**Author's Note: _This is my first fic. It's also my first story written in this format rather then a script. Therefore, I'm sure my writing skills have room to imrpove. Any advice and/or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you see any repeated mistakes in my grammar that I'm making and do not believe that I realize my mistake, please, please, please point it out. Thanks for reading!_**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

Dressed in a white dress and carrying a purse over her shoulder, no one suspected Fox of anything and she smiled slightly at the irony of it. It had been a long time since she had pretended to be normal. As she flipped through magazines, faking interest in the various headlines, she watched people walk by in her peripheral vision. No one in the pharmacy gave her a second glance.

Fox wondered who they thought she was. Perhaps they saw her as a teacher or a nurse. No, the bag she was carrying was too expensive for that kind of paycheck. So were the dress and the shoes, for that matter. Psychologists are paid well, right? Ha! The thought of her as a psychologist almost made her laugh out loud. Maybe they thought she was a lawyer. She could definitely pass for a lawyer.

As a young couple passed her, Fox wondered if they thought she was married. A quick glance to her naked index finger and Fox shook the idea out of her head. The idea was almost as ridiculous as her being a psychologist. Fox was the most dependable member of the Fraternity and her loyalty and devotion to it made her an outstanding member. That didn't mean she'd be a good wife. Or girlfriend, for that matter. In fact, she'd even be a terrible a group of teenage girls passed by, Fox overheard a few seconds of a conversation about how hot someone named Nick was. Fox wondered if she, herself, would have been one of them had her life had not arranged itself the way it had. Would she have been one of those teenage girls following fads and talking about boys and movies and love and celebrities? Would she and her friends do each other's hair and shop together? Fox couldn't see it.

Shifting her eyes to another magazine, Fox read the headline, which was about some lady with eight kids. God, did they think Fox was a mom? Fox's hand subconsciously dropped to her toned stomach as she thought about it. Those poor imaginary kids would have the worst mother. She couldn't be a mom. She would have to give it up for adoption or something. She couldn't bring a child into her life. Then again, would she be able to leave her own baby? She agonized over the fate of her imaginary child until a flash of blue caught her attention.

Right, she was here for a reason.

Fox did a quick scan of the store, looking as nonchalant as possible. She caught a quick glimpse of their target, who was dressed in a green jacked, as he weaved through the aisles. Two assassins in one pharmacy and no one suspected a thing. Ignorance is bliss.

She turned her attention to the man in the blue and recited his information in her head. His name was Wesley Allan Gibson. He was thirty two years old and lived with his girlfriend, Cathy, in a miserable loft that shook every time the train went by. She hated the apartment. He didn't care. She slept with his best friend. He didn't care about that either.

Wesley Allan Gibson was known to be a victim of some serious panic attacks. He was a pathetically stressed out young man who even had an ergonomic keyboard in his cubicle. As if working a cubicle wasn't bad enough. The panic attacks were the reason he was here, therefore, the reasons she was here.

Wesley turned and caught the eye of their target. Correction; Wesley turned and caught the eye of who will be his target. Now was her chance.

Wesley turned back around as the man ducked out of sight to find Fox leaning against the wall and watching him, standing uncomfortably close. He stared at her like a deer in the headlight as she watched him carefully. His hair was tousled from too much time spent running his hands through it and the bags under his eyes complimented his sickly skin tone perfectly. You could almost feel the insecurities and misery drip off him. For a second, Fox actually felt sad for him.

Just for a second, though.

Wesley continued to stare at her with wide eyes and jaw slightly agape as Fox leaned against the counter, looking effortlessly breathtaking. She continued to watch him silently, looking as confident and intimidating as he did insecurely and weak, until his brain began to work again.

"I'm sorry." He stuttered awkwardly.

"You apologize too much." Fox stated flatly.

Wesley stared at her for another moment, feeling even more awkward then he normally did around people, and shifted his feet before shrugging insecurely, the way he always did in similar situations.

"Well, I'm sorry about that."

Fox wasn't one for small talk. She studied him as he fidgeted, shoving money across the desk to the pharmacist as he returned with Wesley's meds. A slight smirk appeared on her lips as she watched him but she quickly shut it off. "I knew your father."

Wesley took the information in without looking at her as he stuffed the change in his thin wallet. Finally, he turned toward her. This time, he no longer gazed at her awkwardly or uncomfortably. Instead he looked at her like she was insane. "My father left the week I was born, so…" he trailed, off looking down.

Fox took a breath. "You're father died yesterday on the rooftop of the metropolitan building. Sorry."

Wesley spent a second looking at her astonished before laughing in disbelief. "Look, the liquor aisle is just over there so if you want to go…"

This time, Fox interrupted him. "Your father was one of the greatest assassins who ever lived. The man who killed him is behind you."

With that, Fox pulled out her handgun, grabbed Wesley by the collar of his shirt, and whipped him across the aisle.

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><p><strong><em>Alright, that's it for now. Please tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!<em>**


	2. He's an Accountant!

**Disclaimer:_ I do not own Wanted_**

**Author's Note:_ Please read and review. Many thanks if you do!_**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

The shootout at the pharmacy led to a car chase in which Fox showed off her driving skills while driving a fantastically impressive red Ferrari. Cross avoided winding up in a devastating crash while driving a fantastically unimpressive delivery truck that certainly was not made for car chases. Wesley screamed, cried and begged a whole lot.

After sending a police car flying, causing multiple car crashes, driving in the wrong lane, ripping the door off what may or may not have been a police car by driving through it, shooting at Cross and driving with her legs, Fox found herself driving strait toward a line of police cars, complete with armed cops pointing their Glock 23s at her. As Wesley screamed and swore, Fox kept driving full speed before flipping the car over the police cars, onto and off a bus, and away from the scene.

Then, Wesley woke up.

For a split second, Wesley thought it was a dream.

Then, he actually looked at his surroundings.

Wesley swung himself onto his feet and staggered forward before finding himself eye to eye with a muscular, blonde man, who was sitting on the staircase. Wesley stared at him for a moment before spinning around and trampling his way to where he found a large, bearded man biting his finger nails and spitting. Another direction led him to a dark skinned, well-build man, who was around his age, and the stairs leading down and out were guarded by the gorgeous femme fetal whose name he still had not learned.

"Hello" she greeted, using the same voice she had used the night before; confident, blunt, and forceful. Something in her voice suggested they knew each other and that they were old friends. In one way, Wesley read her voice as her way of suggesting he trust her. In another, he found her inflictions implying that she was amused by him and his pathetic life.

Little did he know it was just the way he spoke.

An older man stood on the staircase above them, looking down at Wesley as he explained that had thought he would be taller.

Wesley stuttered over his words as he called the man "Sir" and explained that he was an accountant.

Ignoring Wesley's nervous rant, the man dragged the waste basked out and said something completely insane.

"Shoot the winds off the flies."

He wasn't joking.

Wesley tried talking his way out of the room, recognizing how unstable the people he was surrounded by were, before a barrel of a gun pressed into the back of his head and silenced him. The dark-skinned man, who was holding the gun, explained that he would count to three. At three, either Wesley would shoot or he would.

Fox watched as Wesley grabbed the gun and pointed it at the waste basket. His face reddened and he was suddenly dressed in sweat. Everyone in that room had looked like that before they joined the Fraternity. They had all experienced what Wesley believed to be panic attacks. They had all learned to control them and so would Wesley.

With a perfect poker face, no one in the room could tell that Fox's heart was beating far faster than normal. No one noticed that Fox's breathing pattern had stopped abruptly as she held her breath. In fact, she hadn't even realized she was doing it until the Gunsmith made it to three and the sound of repetitive gunshots could be heard from Wesley's gun.

As her heartbeat returned to normal, Fox's lips twitched into a relieved smile that was quickly wiped away once she realized it was there. She had no reason to be worried about Wesley's fate. She barely knew him.

Fox looked everywhere but at Wesley as he trotted to a seat and struggled to calm his breathing, pulling a bottle of pills from his pocket. Sloan, the man who had thought Wesley would be taller, strolled toward Wesley with a handful of wingless flies. He took the bottle of pills out of Wesley's hand, replacing it with the flies, and discarded of the pills in the trash. Wesley stared at the flies in disbelief.

Still not allowing herself to look at Wesley, Fox listened as Sloan gave the speech he had given everyone in the room. He explained to Wesley that his "panic attacks" were, in fact, not panic attacks. He told Wesley that his heart was beating at a ridiculously high rate, sending abnormally high amounts of adrenaline to his brain and allowing him to act and react quicker than most people. He told Wesley that only a few people in the world were capable of doing such a thing and that his father, before him, could do it, also. He began to explain to Wesley that he would be able to control these attacks when Wesley stood up suddenly and demanded Sloan to stay away, pointing his gun at him.

Fox found herself staring at Wesley as he struggled to hold back the emotions the past few hours had caused and successfully looked completely nonchalant. With the permanent gleam of mischief in her eye and a small smirk, Fox waved to Wesley as she was introduced to him, only after Sloan introduced himself.

Using the same calm, knowing voice he had used on everyone in the room, Sloan drilled Wesley's destiny into his head. Sounding more like a preacher then an assassin, Sloan spoke of fate, using Wesley's weakness, insecurity, to his advantage. Sloan spoke of Wesley's future as if he had potential to be someone and as emotions contradicted each other, Wesley struggled to control them.

Instructing him to back off, Wesley pushed pass Sloan and pointed his gun at Fox. As she demanded that she stay away from him, Fox struggled to keep herself from laughing as an extremely vulnerable and hysterical accountant pointed a gun at her. As she nodded her agreement to his demands, not meaning it at all, she thought about how easily she could have disarmed him. Perfecting an expression of innocence, she stared at him wide-eyes as he spoke, finding herself holding back laughter behind a smile as she leaned out of his way.

She and the rest of the team leaned over the balcony to watch him go.

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><p><strong>I'm not happy with this chapter. Truthfully, I'm not very happy with the one before it either. I'm still using the actual movie scenes to build up to the point where I can start getting creative. I've been trying to put some charcter mind into the story. I hope it's been working. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	3. Harsh Words and Flying Teeth

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**Author's Note: _This one's rather short. I think it's a slight improvement from the past two chapters. I promise to get better. Please, please, please read and review. I know, it's not the best fic but I'm still learning. I could really use your opinions. Please review!_**

Chapter 3

Wesley literally woke up screaming the next morning.

The first thought that came to his mind when he woke up was:_ I'm so damn glad that was just a dream_.

The second:_ I have to pee._

Making his way to the bathroom, Wesley slid off his pants and felt his stomach drop as he heard the click of metal hitting the floor.

Turning around, Wesley saw the gun Sloan had given him, his father's gun, sitting in his back pocket on the floor.

It wasn't a dream.

Hiding the gun, Wesley sat down and did something he's never done before. Wesley controlled the attack.

The gun that was in his back pocket meant it was all real. He realy had met that gorgeous, unreadable, dangerous woman at the pharmacy. He really had been in both a shootout and a car chase. He realy had shot the wings off a fly and his panic attacks really weren't panic attacks. His father was an assassin and he would be too. For the first time in his life, he really was someone.

His reaction to the impossible reality was much different with a night's sleep on it. He was, in the words of his shit bag of a best friend, Barry, "pepped up". When Barry snuck up being him, Wesley didn't jump. When his boss caught him google searching the murder of his father and screamed at him about the reports he hadn't finished, he did something everyone had always wanted to do but no one had ever dared to.

After telling her to "Shut the fuck up" and fiving a speech about how tired he was of her and calling her fat and so on, Wesley told his boss to fuck herself.

And with that, Wesley unhooked his keyboard, ignored the pairs of eyes that stared at him, and made his way toward the door as Barry called him "the man".

As he walked, Wesley found that he did care about Barry sleeping with Cathy. Not because he loved her. Not because he expected more out Barry. He cared because, for the first time in his life, Wesley had enough confidence to actually care about things. To show how much he cared about it, Wesley used the keyboard to slap Barry across the face, sending him falling to the ground.

Wesley was pretty sure he saw a tooth go flying.

**_ What did you think? Better then the last? Worst then the last? What'd you think was good? What'd you think was bad? Please tell me what you think. I can't express how much a review would mean to me. Thanks for reading!  
><em>**

**_**_ By the way, I hope that everyone who lives in areas hit by Hurricane Irene is okay. We lost power for a few days and lost a few days of school/work. I hope you are all okay._**_**

**_**_-G_**_**


	4. Do You Make Sweaters?

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**Author's Note: _You're a stubborn lot, aren't you! As I said before, I'd love to hear from you. If you could just take a few seconds to give me you're opinion, I'd be extremely grateful. Constructive criticism is welcomed, even more so then compliments!_**

Chapter 4

"This is pretty awesome!" Wesley yelled, over the sound of the machines, "Is it a front?"

Fox had been waiting for Wesley outside of his office and had silently driven him to a textile mill, as he walked his way throw the newfound feeling of power. The man with the gun from the night prior, who has called the Gunsmith, led Wesley to Sloan inside the mill.

"A front for what?" asked Sloan, seriously.

"I don't know. Assassination?" answered Wesley with a shrug.

Sloan led Wesley up the stairs to the lunch room, feeding him what Wesley believed to be absolute bull about them being in an actual textile mill.

Fox looked up from her lunch, as Wesley and Sloan came bursting through the doors.

"I think you owe me some answers." Wesley stated.

Fox wasn't sure how much longer Sloan was going to act like a preacher. As their superior, he deserved a certain amount of respect. He didn't owe Wesley anything.

Sloan stepped toward the coffee machine and poured himself a mug as Wesley asked a question that silenced the entire room.

"Do you make sweaters or do you kill people?"

Sloan continued to make his coffee silently, causing Wesley to look around the room. The big, bearded man took a huge bite out of his sandwich as he stared at Wesley. The look in his eyes led Wesley to regret speaking to Sloan so casually. As he scanned the room, he met familiar and unfamiliar faces. All were watching him with the same expression as the big man. All but Fox, that is. She almost looked nervous.

Fox watched Wesley carefully as Sloan silently made his coffee. Sloan looked up from his mug and said, "This is an awful lot of questions over coffee." Before stepping past him and toward the table at which Fox and the blonde man sat.

"Are you sure you're ready for the answers?" he asked Wesley.

"Yes! I-I'm sure." Wesley answered. "I can't go back." He said with a small laugh, "Not to my life".

Sloan watched Wesley before turning to Fox.

"He's all yours."


	5. Confessions

**Disclaimer:_ I do not own Wanted_**

**Author's Note: _Please review._**

Chapter 5

In one day, Wesley learned a lot.

1. Wesley learned that the blonde man was named the Repair Man. He repairs a lifetime of bad habits. Translation; He beats the crap out of you.

2. The big guy with the beard is the Butcher. He likes slamming dead pigs into people. He doesn't like being interrupted nor does he like sarcastic answers to rhetorical questions. He likes knives. He also thinks that Wesley is a pussy.

3. Fox likes to watch Wesley get beat up. She also doesn't mind eating while surrounded by dead pigs when Wesley is getting beat up, stabbed, insulted, et cetera, et cetera.

4. In the Recovery Room, there's a bath that speeds up white blood cells. Scratches, bruises and breaks all heal in a matter of hours, not days. That means that the Repair Man and the Butcher get to beat Wesley up as much as they want and Fox gets to watch. Also, the guy who works the Recovery Room is a Russian named the Exterminator. He gives you vodka.

5. If you ever feel like your alarm just doesn't wake you up, get Fox to sneak into your room, lean over you're sleeping self, and tell you to get up in that flat, confusing tone of hers. It works like a charm

Fox slid into Wesley's bed as he slept and place her head just above his shoulder so that her mouth was only centimeters from his ear. "Get up." She directed, sliding out of his bed just as he whipped up into a sitting position. He turned to see her stepping toward the door, fully dressed, as he rubbed his eyes and stretched the hand that had been stabbed the day prior.

Wesley flipped himself out of bed and took a few steps before Fox got to the door and turned around. Her eyes flashed when she saw him and she couldn't stop the small chuckle from escaping under her breath as Wesley patted his wild hair to his head, not realizing that he was wearing nothing but boxers.

After watching Fox allow a small chuckle, paranoia awakened any parts of him that the adrenaline caused by her greeting hadn't already woken up and he became aware of the lack of clothes he was wearing.

He made a few attempts at speaking but after a few stutters, he decided it was better to just get dressed rather than make a bigger fool of himself then he already had. Quickly throwing on the first thing he saw- a pair of jeans, a beater, and a plaid flannel- Wesley quickly made his way past Fox and out the door, aware of the fact that she had been watching him with that confusing glance the entire time.

The pair walked in silence for the first few minutes as Fox led the way to wherever she was taking him. Finally, Wesley spoke up.

"My building collects week. Cathy's going to be pissed at me for making her pay it full."

Fox, who usually ignored Wesley's pointless remarks, turned to look at him so quickly her neck hurt. "Cathy doesn't give a damn about you."

Fox immediately regretted say it, even more so when Wesley stopped in his tracks and took a long, deep breath. Finally, he looked at her and shrugged.

Fox waited for him to say more but he didn't and a moment later the two were walking again.

"Why'd you stay with her?" she asked carefully. Ever since they had started surveillance on Wesley and found out about his charming girlfriend and loyal best friend, not the sarcasm, Fox had wondered why Wesley stayed with her. She knew she was overstepping by a long shot but she couldn't help asking.

Wesley looked down and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before looking up and answering. 'I never had any siblings and I only ever had my mom, who was always working. I never made any friends at school because of the panic attacks. Barry and I were only friends because we shared a cubicle and he needed someone to listen to him go on and on and I was willing to listen. I was someone he could pick on and he was someone who actually paid attention to me. I met Cathy at a party. She was drunk that night and had been broke for a while. She dated me because I was willing to let her move in and she's one of those girls who needs to have a guy in her life."

Fox was positive her heard him mumble "or two…" under his breath but she decided to pretend she didn't hear it.

"I dated her because I thought it meant I had a chance at being somebody's someone."

Fox wasn't expecting that last answer and she regretted asking it. Fox was famous for her cool demeanor and her unyielding poker face but, when it came to emotions, she was as awkward as Wesley. She struggled to find the words to say before they stepped into the Gunsmith's room and was thankful for not needing to respond.

"This is the Gunsmith. He knows more about a piece than anyone and he's going to teach you how to use it." She explained as they entered the room and led Wesley to the table covered in various firearms.

"How you doing? The Gunsmith asked politely.

"Good." Wesley answered Wesley, quickly stealing a glance toward Fox, regretting the conversation on the walk down. She wasn't one to get personal with and, really, he wasn't one to try to get personal with anyone. He had started the conversation by innocently thinking out loud and it had unexpectedly turned into an awkward confession and explained his pathetic life. Fantastic.


	6. Frustration

**Disclaimer:_ I do not own Wanted_**

**Author's Note: _I uploaded two chapters today because I didn't upload one yesterday. I was the opening act for a show last night and didn't get home until late so sorry about that. This one's pretty short, as I'm sure you can tell. It just sort of ended up like that but if you guys review, even just to say that you like it or that you don't like it, I'd be a lot more excited to write these chapters. Just say hi if you want or tell me that you like ice cream. Just let me know that you guys are reading. Please._**

Chapter 6

Fun fact of the day; The Fraternity uses dead bodies for target practice. They say you have to know what it's like to put a bullet in a body. Wesley says that old lady on a stick could be somebody's mom. He's not as quick to pull the trigger as Fox.

Once again, Wesley found himself in the Repair room, arms bound. Days of training changed Wesley's opinion of the Fraternity and he was beginning to get frustrated. Fox still woke him up whenever she felt like it and the walks to and from wherever she wanted to go were always silent. Between the Repair Man and the Butcher, Wesley had broken his nose, collarbone and a few ribs. He had crushed his left knee cap and his hand had been stabbed three times. His cheeks had been gouged and sliced as well as his torso and thighs. To top things off, the Butcher still called him a pussy.

For what felt like the millionth time since he started training with the Fraternity, Fox asked Wesley why he was here.

"You know," He answered, frustrated, "I thought I was learning to be some kind of super assassin."

The Repair Man simply stared down at him and Fox sat with her arms crossed behind her head, out of Wesley's sight.

"You know, if I wanted to get beat up," he added "I would have stayed in my cubicle."

Wrong answer.


	7. Train Rides

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted**_

_**A/N: Not happy with this chapter at all but I'm late to update so I decided to post it anyway. I must say, I never realized just how much profanity was in this movie until I really studied it for this fic. I don't like using this much profanity in my work but I wanted to stay true to the scene. If you don't like profanity, I recommend you skip to the next chapter.**_

Chapter 7

Wesley followed Fox as she burst through the door and led Wesley onto the roof top. He followed her lead as she seated herself at the top of the roof, looking unreal in her leather outfit. There was a moment of silence between the two before a train came shooting down the tracks under their feet. Recognizing the train, Wesley said "Hey, I think that's my old train."

Fox turned to him and flashed the mischievous grin that always made Wesley feel like an idiot.

"It still is."

With that, Fox shoved Wesley off the roof top and onto the train. She landed gracefully on her feet while Wesley crashed down and hung on for his life as his torso hung over the side of the train. Because some higher power got a kick out watching every ounce of Wesley's dignity drain out of him, the leather-clad femme fatal got him to a more comfortable position and hopped to the next cart.

Laying down and gripping the side of the train so tightly you could see the bones in his fingers, he looked up to see Fox standing up, smiling brightly at him.

"Fucking asshole!" he screamed at her, fearing for his life.

"Come on!" she called, her smile getting even bigger as she turned around and began to run farther down her cart. "Let's go!"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" screamed Wesley as he struggled to stand up. He managed to through his body to the next cart and take a few steps as Fox watched him seductively.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he saw what lie ahead of them. The train was about to travel under a highway, giving he and Fox no more than six inches to flatten their bodies to.

"Shit" cried Wesley as a new wave of panic overcame common sense and he tried to run the opposite direction. Fox, on the other hand, turned around slowly and leaned back so that her back was against the train, legs flattened back so that her feet were by her hips.

By the time Wesley realized he stood no chance of outrunning the train, it was too late. His head smashed against the concrete tunnel, leaving him barely conscious as he screamed his way through the ride.

He woke up hours later in the Recovery Room.

**_Please review_**


	8. Dependability

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**A/N: _I'm a bit happier with this one than the last. If I stay true to my plan, its the next few chapters I'm excited about._**

Chapter 8

Fox stood by Wesley's side, in front of one of the many textile machines. Another member of the Fraternity had been killed at Cross' hands and Sloan believed that Wesley was the only one who could catch him. As pressure duplicated on Fox to train Wesley to reach his expectations, she was forced to train him twice as hard. She didn't like it.

As Wesley watched the textile machine work, she pointed out the shuttle. She paused for half a second to look at Wesley. The insecure dark circles under his eyes had vanished behind the effects of emotions including power, confusion, fear, and anger. His hair was no longer graeasy and tousled in front from running his hands through it nervously. Instead, it hung above his forehead, sticking out here and there as a result of the training. His eyes no longer looked sunken and dim behind a think layer of insecurity and self-deprecation but gleamed with life. He looked like a new person. Ask anyone, including Wesley, himself, and they would say that he was a new person. That is, anyone but Fox.

She still saw the insecure, lonely man in a cheap blue pullover and pastel shirt from Wal-Mart. She saw the worry lines around his eyes and slight pout that came every time she smirked at him. She saw the flash of self-doubt everytimg she told him to do something. He was still the same Wesley.

She watched him carefully as he followed the shuttle with his eyes as it shout back and forth, so quickly it was hard to see anything but a blur. "I want you to catch it."

Wesley followed the shuttled with his eyes for a few more seconds before taking a breath and reaching for the shuttle. For a second, Fox thought he would catch it.

Then he screamed in pain and held his bloody hand.

The point of this was to get Wesley to control what he had believed to be panic attacks. He needed to be able to slow down time when he wanted. Every member of the Fraternity had done it in the beginning. Every one of them had their hand pierced by the machines over and over again until they finally caught the shuttle. In her years at the Fraternity, she had watched a handful of bloody assassins-to-be hold their bloody fingers as they yelped in pain. Never had it taken an actual effort o keep her face expressionless when it happened. Feeling frustrated with herself, she resisted the urge to hold his injured hand, and explained the importance of controlling his attacks.

Wesley looked at her for a moment before turning his attention to the shuttle. It took a while but, finally, he managed to slow time down. This time with confidence, Wesley reached inside the machine.

It hurt even worse the second time.

Wesley spun around to look at Fox who was watching him expressionlessly. The pain in his hand almost became an afterthought as rage filled his veins. Ever since the shootout at the pharmacy, he had trusted her. He had trusted her the first time his arms were bound in the Repair Room and she told him it would be alright. Then he got the crap beaten out of him. He trusted her when she led him to the Butcher. Then he was stabbed, sliced, and insulted. He had trusted her with the shuttle and, now, his hand was bleeding. He was done. He was done trusting her and playing her games.

"This is bull shit!" he screamed at her, furiously. "Fuck this."

With that, Wesley stormed off, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible.

Fox just stood there. Years of experience allowed her face to remain expressionless and posture to remain the same, despite what she felt inside. She hadn't expected that outburst and it hurt. She was angry at him. The Fraternity was depending on him. They had sacrificed so much for him. Men had died as they waited for Wesley to reach his potential. He had no right to treat this so casually. She was furious at him for storming off. They could not afford for him to mope over a few cuts and bruises. They depended on him too much.

She depended on him too much.

**_Please review._**

**_ -G_**


	9. Why Are You Here?

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**A/N: _In my personal opinion, this is the best I've written for this fic so far. I hope you agree_.**

Chapter 9

Fox waited in the Repairman's room, hidden by the stairs. Five minutes ago, she had been in the recovery room as it healed the bloodied knuckles and bruised shins that come as a result of a furious sparring session alone. Wesley had been in the Recovery room, too, two tubs over, oblivious to her presence. He had befriended the friendly Russian, named the Exterminator, during his stay at the Fraternity and he had shown Wesley how he could blow up rats with a watch. Fox, herself, had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation and demonstration, still furious at Wesley. She had lain there, miserably, as she listened to his voice. She had managed to focus on the anger she felt toward Wesley, rather than the hurt. Anger could be explained, dealt with, and taken care of. Emotional pain was a weakness Fox didn't want to deal with.

Choking down the emotions, she climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel. She didn't need to turn around to know that Wesley was watching her, shocked. Covering her bare ass just a second too late, she told him to meet her in the Repair Room in five.

Now, she silently waited for Wesley to reach the bottom of the stairs, not looking up to see him as he pounded down each step. Using her fury to her advantage, she slammed into Wesley, smashing his head in the moment he stepped off the stairs, catching him off guard. As far as anyone knew, she was playing an act, trying to get what she wanted out of Wesley. Truthfully, she was just playing off her emotions.

"You're a waste of my fucking time." She screamed at him.

The Repair Man stared at Fox, not expecting the change of routine. He knew that the pressure to get Wesley into shape was increasing but this was not a take he would have expected her to take. She thought she was fooling everyone, keeping her face stoical and back straight. He had known her long not too see through the mask. He saw how she cringed every time he hit Wesley. He saw how her breath cut short every time he looked at her. He must have done something to piss her off because, now, he feared for Wesley's life.

The force of Fox's hit sent Wesley whipping around but he caught himself before he hit the ground. Playing off his own wrath, the two circled each other like wild animals, as they heaved and screamed at one another.

"Why are you here?" she asked, angrily. She had asked the same question in this room every day since Wesley started at the Fraternity but it had never been screamed in pure fury.

"I don't know. So hit me!" Wesley howled, just as angry.

Doing as told, Fox slammed her fist into the side of his face, sending him to the ground. Repeated hits to the kidney had him groaning in pain, but that didn't stop her. Another hit to the head had him spinning into the pole behind him.

Covered in sweat, Fox stepped forward to lean over Wesley, who was doubled over and leaning against the pole. "Why are you here?" she repeated.

"I had a shit life so why wouldn't I?" he asked, turning around. He half expected to meet the unsaid sympathy he had me ton his way to the Gunsmith. Instead, his nose was broken by Fox's fist.

She watched him threateningly as he took two heavy breaths. "I want to kick your fucking ass." He swore, taking a hard swing at Fox, who jumped out of the way, easily. Unlike him, when she took a swing, she hit him and sent him tumbling to the ground.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, angrily.

"What are you here?"

"I don't know!"

With fingers covered by a metal ring, she swung at his face. She lifted up and repeated her question before kneeing him in the stomach.

"I don't know why I'm here." Wesley cried.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, grabbing a fist full of think hair and slamming his head into the metal bar in front of him.

She hit him again in the side as he leaned over the bar and asked him again.

"I don't know who I am" Wesley moaned, barely audible.

Fox tore him off the bar and onto his back as he crouched over him.

"What did you say?" she asked, quietly.

"I said I don't know who I am" he moaned, trying to catch his breath.

Fox wanted over him for a few moments, silently. He was covered in blood and his broken nose was deformed. She had been too furious to feel bad for him, now, but she could feel her anger subsiding. Allowing a small smile to form on her lips, she got to her feet and walked out of the room to clean herself up.

**_Please Review. I have a rough draft of the next few chapters and I'm enjoying them. Hopefuly, you'll read and like them. Also, to anyone in the New Orleans area, I haven't heard much about the hurricane other than you guys got hit. Hope you are all okay._**

**_ -G_**


	10. MP

**Disclaimer**_**: I do not own Wanted.**_

**A/N:**_** This is completely different than it had orriginally been. At first, I hadn't included the train scene but I decided to add it because my favorite part in the movie occurs in that scene. Anyone else love that bit where Fox rests her forehead against Wesley's as they laugh? I thought it was adorable so I had to include it. Anyways, I ended up changing Fox's story too. I mean no disrespect to the film by changing the setting of the scene, it was simply more convienent for me to change it.**_

Chapter 10

After that, things started to change. Wesley developed an unmistakable devotion to his training after a private discussion between him and Sloan and, to the relief of both he and Fox, they began to see improvement.

His shooting went from mediocre to impressive in a little over a week. He didn't hesitate when he was about to attempt the ridiculous and presumably impossible, nor when a failed attempt would result in pain. The time that wasn't spent training was spent studying. He took it upon himself to study every move Cross ever made, memorize the scene of every attack. On multiple occasions, Fox would find him hunched over articles or in front of a textile machine with bloody hands and she would have to remind him that he had missed dinner hours ago or that it was three in the morning and he needed sleep.

He developed outstanding skills in one on one combat. He outsmarted the Butcher in his own game and managed to break free of the Repairman's bounds and, for a change, beat the crap out of _him_. Finally, after weeks of failed attempts, Wesley caught the shuttle.

Perhaps the greatest improvement could be seen in the relationship between Fox and Wesley. After their disaster, they began seeing eye to eye. They almost unwittingly developed friendship, only realizing how strong their relationship was one it was too late to back out. Still, neither was very open about their emotions, but they always knew when the other was upset. During such occasions, they made sure to spend as much time together as it took for the other to forget what had caused their unhappiness.

Fox continued to supervise Wesley's training and his need to make her proud was as strong a drive as getting revenge for his father. It became common practice for them to spar together when something was on least one of their minds and Fox could always tell when Wesley had worked himself too hard. And every night, when training was done for the day and the Recovery Room had patched them up, Fox and Wesley hopped off the roof and onto the train, racing each other to the striped flag trapped on the train rooftop.

That was exactly what they were doing now.

Both Fox and Wesley landed gracefully on their feet, after jumping off the Fraternity rooftop. Standing side by side, they looked to each other and nodded. Game time.

Without hesitation, both assassins sped toward the front of the train, hopping from cart to cart. When they got to the highway, Wesley did not turn the opposite way. As Fox flattened herself against the cool metal, Wesley sent him crashing into the highway, ignoring the busy traffic as he ran across the road and leaped off the other end.

Fox hadn't expected that.

Wesley didn't even look before he jumped, so when his foot landed just a few inches away from Fox's thighs, he surprised both of them. Fox lifted her head up to glare at Wesley. He spent no more time than necessary flashing her a wicked smile before turning around and making his way to the flag.

He hadn't anticipated Fox tripping him.

Wesley crashed onto the cool metal as Fox got to her feet and stepped over him. He turned just in time to see her leather-clad and grabbed her calf, sending her to the ground just a few feet away from the flag. As she tried to crawl her way to freedom, Wesley grabbed her leg again and pulled her back. Together, the pair crawled their way to the flag, pushing, shoving, grabbing and pulling each other away from it as they laughed happily. When the flag caught both sets of eyes at the same time, they both lunged for it, bodies tangled together awkwardly.

With both hands on the flag, it was impossible to tell who had won. Refusing to be the first to let go, Fox tuned her face in and rested her forehead against Wesley's as they laughed hysterically together.

The train took many twists and turns before the pair gained control of the laughter and decided to call it a tie, untangling their bodies from each other and allowing themselves to enjoy a relaxing rest of the ride.

Both in identical positions, the pair lie on the back with their head resting on their arms, staring at the sky above them.

"Can I ask you something?" Wesley asked, uncertainly.

Fox turned her head to look at him as he stared at the sky above him. That question always made her nervous. It foreshadowed an emotional mess that would either make her want to cry or kill. Even so, she answered with a yes.

"How do you know you're doing the right thing?"

Fox changed position completely so that she was on her side, looking at Wesley. "What?" she asked clearly confused.

"When you kill someone, I mean, how do you know you're doing the right thing?" he stuttered. "I mean, most of the time, you don't know your target. He's just a name. You don't know that he's bad or that he's evil. You don't know anything about him. You're just supposed to trust fate and believe that this person needs to die."

Fox stayed silent and watched Wesley carefully.

"I don't know if I could do that." He admitted.

"Fox closed her eyes as if the final confession hurt to hear. She took a breath with her eyes closed as she debated whether or not she should give a real answer or brush it off.

Sitting up, Fox opened her eyes, watching Wesley. After a short moment, she began to speak. "About twenty years ago" she began "There was this girl. Her dad was a federal judge so she probably had it in her mind that she was going to follow in his footsteps. So she's home one Christmas and her dad's on this big racketeering case. The defendant wants to get a softer judge, one they can buy off. So, they hire this guy, Max Petrix; get him to pay her father a visit."

Fox can hear her voice begin to shake so she takes a minute to catch her breath. She looks at Wesley, who is still lying on his back, as he watches her carefully, listening to her story. She had never told this story to anyone not had she ever planned on telling it. Not counting Sloan, no one even knew her real name, never mind her past. Normally, doing something that caused raw emotions like this were uncomfortable and, therefore avoided at all costs by Fox. Now, as she looked at Wesley, she felt oddly comfortable. Something in those eyes of his, those gorgeous blue eyes that finally shined, let her trust him. Completely trust him. At this moment, she wanted to tell him everything.

"And the way he pays people a visit" she continued, ignoring her scratchy voice, "Is to break in and tie up their loved ones and force them to watch, while he burns his targets alive."

Another unsteady breath and Wesley sat up, facing her. The wind had his hair sticking out awkwardly but he didn't care. From the way he was looking at her, Fox doubted he even noticed the wind. Fox could feel her eyes fill up and it took everything she had to keep the tears from falling.

"And then he takes a wire hangar and twists it around and brands his initials in each one of them so they will never, ever forget."

Fox looks past Wesley and scowls at nothing as she swallows.

"After I was recruited into the Fraternity, I found out that Max Petrix's name had come up weeks before the federal judge was killed and that a Fraternity member and failed to pull the trigger."

This time, Wesley swallowed as he took in the words she was saying.

"We don't know how far the ripples of our decisions go." Fox explained her voice shakier than ever.

"You kill one and, maybe, you'll save a thousand. That's the code of the Fraternity. That's what we believe in and that's why we do it."

Fox and Wesley stared at each other for a few moments, each with the same somber expression on their faces. Wesley hadn't even noticed that the train had slowed to a stop until Fox turned around and slid off, jogging away from where the people would be, before he even got off.

What he did notice, when she slid off, was the spot on her neck where Max Petrix had branded his initials.

_**Hope you liked it. Tell me what you think!**_


	11. If I Don't Accidently Kill You

**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Wanted**_

**A/N:**_** I'm not sure what to make of this. I hadn't planned on writing anything today but I desperately needed a break from studying and I found myself adding another chapter. As usual, if I had any plan at all with this, I'm don't think I followed it. Hopefully I gave it justice.**_

_**To angel2CA, Thank you so much for reviewing! I was actually planning on going on hiatus for a couple of weeks to focus on exams and because no one was reviewing. You're reviews will keep me updating (but that doesn't mean I'm not looking for other people to review, as well) ! I guess I'll answer each review one by one.**_

_**Ch. 5: Thank you! I'll be sure to check your fic out. I have to go back to studying after this is posted but I promise I'll read it once I get the chance!**_

_**Ch. 6: I agree. Thanks for the imput. Constructive Criticism is the best!**_

_**Ch. 8: Thank you!**_

_**Ch. 10: Ahh thank you! I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me. I was extremely nervous about that chapter. I was afraid I hadn't done the pair justice or that I wasn't giving them the chemistry they deserved. To hear that you believed I portrayed it even better than the movie is amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**_

**Chapter 11 - This Will Be Really Romantic If I Don't Accidently Kill You**

Wesley leaned over the ornate wooden table, with his gun in front of him. The Gunsmith stood behind him, with Sloan at his side, and Fox stood about a yard to Wesley's left. In his peripheral vision, Wesley could see Fox's eyes drop in disappointment as his bullet failed to curve. Suddenly, she looked up and slid around the boys, making her way in front of the pig. There she stood, looking directly into Wesley's eyes.

"Shoot the target."

Wesley immediately straightened, as he took in what she was saying. He was at a loss for words but, thankfully, his companions were not.

"This is stupid, Fox." The Gunsmith warned, as Sloan called her name.

"I know what I'm doing." She answered irritably, tearing her eyes away from Wesley to make eye contact with Sloan.

Finally, Wesley's brain began to function again.

"No way." He cried, with a vigorous shake of his head. "Uh-uh. I am not shooting while you're there."

"Yes you are." Fox answered, flat as ever.

"No!" Wesley screamed, panicked at what she was asking.

Fox paused. She knew far too well that Wesley was stubborn.

"Fine" she said bitterly. Fox unsnapped the leather holster at her hip and took out her own revolver. Pressing it against her temple, she said "On three, either you shoot, or I do."

There was a moment of absolute in the room as each of the boys in the room stared at Fox in shock. The Gunsmith, while he would never say it to Sloan or Fox, didn't have as strong a faith in Wesley as they did. Sure, he had improved over the past few weeks, but that didn't mean he could successfully complete the job at which the best failed. Now, Fox was asking for suicide.

"Fox" Wesley began, begging her not to make him shoot.

"One."

"Fox, please."

Fox tilted her head and shot him a glance that could make a grown man cower. Wesley took a breath and picked up his gun.

Wesley looked at her again and watched her nod. It was the same nod she had used to assure him that so many things were okay. Looking back, none of them were.

Hearing the click of his gun, Wesley thought about how gorgeous Fox looked. Wearing a casual, white blouse and a pair of brown slacks, anyone else would not have been anything outstanding. Fox, on the other hand, looked breathtaking. Her hair was done, dancing around her shoulder blades and pulled out of her beautiful eyes. Minimal make-up looked fantastic on her and she looked far too confident to be doing what she was doing. She was about to die. Wesley was about to unintentionally kill his best friend.

"This is crazy." He muttered, stepping away from the table. Wesley stepped toward the ugly wall and faced it, trying to control his breathing. He turned around and took a deep breath.

Fox watched as Wesley tried to calm himself. After watching him take a deep breath, she took one herself, as if to show him it as okay.

She trusted him.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Wesley began to sprint toward the table and whipped hi gun around, pulling the trigger.

Fox watched as a silver bullet sped toward her face. As the bullet got closer, the boys held their breaths, sure she was about to die. Fox knew she wouldn't.

As fox had predicted, the bullet curved, piercing neither her nor the pig. The worst it did was tousle her hair a little.

Perfect bull's eye.

Sloan and the Gunsmith smiled happily. Sloan got up from his seat to pat Wesley on the shoulder and welcome him to the Fraternity.

Any other moment, Wesley would have celebrated. Now, he did nothing but stare at Fox.

He couldn't believe she had just done that.

Fox watched Wesley carefully as he stared at her. She gave him a slight nod before turning away. She should be happy for him. Why wasn't she happy for him? Fox had thought that this was what she had wanted. She thought she wanted Wesley to be part of the team and kill Cross.

Then, she realized it wasn't his becoming a member of the Fraternity that bothered her. She turned around to look at Wesley as he followed Sloan out the door, looking numb and uncertain.

He had done the impossible when her life was at risk.

For whatever reason, it was only then that Fox realized that she loved Wesley Gibson. And to make matters worse, he loved her too.

**_Thank you for reading! Review Review Review. _**


	12. Shoot Me a Smile

**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Wanted**_

**A/N:**_** This one is extremely short and, in my opinion, mediocre at best. I debated whether or not I should upload it for a while but I decided I might as well. I'll add another chapter to make up for this one's short length. Enjoy!**_

_**To angel2CA: Well, I'm flattered you think so haha. Thank you! They definitely are a pain. Awesome, I'll try to read it tonight. And haha thank you, I hoped you guys would like that.**_

Chapter 12

Fox kneeled by Wesley's side on the train rooftop, as it carried them to their intended spot. Wesley was on his first assignment. He was about to shoot his first kill. The nervous tension could be cut with a knife.

She didn't know when but Sloan had taken Wesley to see the Loom. He had explained the way it worked and the way the Fraternity operated and had given Wesley the name of his first kill. Wesley didn't like the position he was in. he had thought he was with the Fraternity to kill Cross, not Robert Deane Darren. She knew he was remembering the story she had told him and she was glad that she told it. Judging by the way he felt now, Fox wasn't sure if he would have taken the shot if she hadn't.

"Fifth window" Fox reminded Wesley, as the front of the train turned the corner. Shea waited until the time was right before say "Now".

Wesley pointed his gun and saw the man in the white collared shirt, sitting at the end of the table. His target. He looked normal. He didn't look dangerous or evil. He did not look like he deserved to die. In fact, he looked like he was someone's lover. He may even have a kid or two, waiting for him to come home. Wesley released the trigger.

Then, Wesley remembered Fox's story. He remembered the scar on her neck and Wesley took the shot.

Wesley turned to see Fox and was greeted by a pleased grin. She had the most beautiful smile. Wesley thought she should show it more often.

**_Hang in there. I'll update chapter 13 soon. Please, please review. It means a lot when you do. Don't be shy!_**


	13. She's a Real Girl!

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**A/N:_ As promised, chapter 13! This one turned out a little cuter then I had planned so I hope you guys like fluff. _**

Chapter 13

Leather-clad once again, Fox followed Wesley down the ugly halls until they reached their intended destination.

Inside the apartment he had lived in just a few weeks prior, the voice of Wesley's girlfriend could be heard. Because life was cruel, she was calling to Barry.

Fox felt ice in her veins. She had hated Cathy before she even met Wesley. Being so hesitant to place trust in someone, Fox despised people who treated it lightly. She was utterly disgusted by unfaithfulness. Therefore, she had been utterly disgusted by Cathy.

Now, she truly loathed the girl. She had taken advantage of Wesley's loneliness and misery. She was cold enough to be unfaithful to him, with his best friend, of all people. She had never given Wesley anything, at least not while Fox was doing surveillance. She had yelled and complained and blamed him for all sorts of things but she had never said anything nice to him. She didn't deserve him.

Fox pushed the idea of jealousy out of her head.

A sad smile appeared on Wesley's face as he recognized the voice from inside. The fact that Barry had moved into his apartment to be whit his girlfriend was a cold reminder of how miserably pathetic Wesley had been just a few weeks ago. He glanced at Fox quickly, who was leaning against the wall so as not to be seen, before knocking on the door.

Yes, he recognized the irony in the fact he had to knock on his own door.

Barry answered the door and flashed a toothless grin that made Wesley smile internally at the memory of knocking the tooth out.

Barry only got a few words out before Wesley got sick of his voice and kicked the door down, sending Barry down, onto his back.

Wesley stepped over Barry and grabbed a plastic bag before stepping into the bathroom as Cathy began to scream at him.

He drowned her out.

Fox didn't.

"Oh, look at the big man, you fucking ass hole!" Cathy screamed. "What? What? You don't show up for weeks and now you're just going to stop by and use the bathroom?"

Fox heard the door slam in Cathy's face and smiled. If only he had been able to do that a year ago.

"You are nothing." Cathy yelled through the door. "No. You are less than nothing!"

The smile vanished from Fox's face as she heard Cathy's screams. She really, really hated Cathy but she cared about Wesley even more. The things she yelled at him hurt Fox as if she was saying them about her, rather than Wesley.

"You're not even half the man that Barry is!" Cathy screamed.

Enough is enough.

A wicked idea send Fox striding through the doorway. Truthfully, she never spent much time on what she wore. She worse leather because it protected her. It was proficient. Now, she was glad she wore the leather for a completely different reason.

Doing everything she could to make a few steps appear as sexy as possible, Fox caught the attention of everyone in the room, including Cathy.

Wesley had successfully drowned Cathy out through this entire ordeal but Fox sent him back into alertness. She walked with a slight swing in her hips, something she had never done before, and a seductive grin on her lips. Her eyes glinted mischievously and Wesley's mind went blank.

"Who the hell is she Wesley?" Cathy asked in disgust. "You're new whore?"

Both Fox and Wesley droned the rest of Cathy's rant out as Fox stepped into a forceful kiss that almost made Wesley's knees give out.

Fox had intended to make it a long, hard kiss; one that would piss of Cathy. Instead, it was short.

Fox pulled away quickly after stepping in for the first kiss. She had expected it to be like every other kiss she had ever shared; nice, hot and meaningless.

This was not one of those kisses.

Fox broke away from the kiss quickly because it was the kind of kiss you see in movies and hear about in love songs. It was the kind of kiss that made the ground shake and put butterflies in her stomach.

Fox had not expected that.

With her hand still on his check, Fox stared at Wesley, shocked. A moment was spent between the two as they stared at each other in bewilderment. Then, Wesley smiled that goofy grin that told Fox what she needed to know. He felt it too.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Fox found herself leaning in for a second kiss, a smile still on both of their faces. This one was slightly longer and a million times more passionate. They were prepared for the ground's shaking and butterflies this time and they embraced them. The feeling so powerful; Fox didn't understand how the entire world didn't feel what she felt.

Then, she remembered where she was

The couple broke the kiss and smile brightly at each other. Fox took a step back, taking his hand in hers and pulled him out the door. She didn't even hear Cathy as she called Wesley's name.

As Fox and Wesley climbed down the dirty stairs and out the building, Fox felt like a teenage girl at prom. Or, at least what she thought a teenage girl at prom would feel like. Having never attended prom or been a normal teenage girl, she didn't know.

Nevertheless, Fox felt downright giddy. Looking back, Fox didn't think she could ever use the word giddy to describe how she felt before now. With his hand in hers and the taste of his lips on her mouth, she wanted to tell the entire world how she felt.

Fox could feel Wesley's gaze on the back of her neck and she smiled slightly. Wesley missed the last step and ungracefully slid to the pavement, causing Fox to turn around.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yeah." He answered, with a small laugh "Yeah I'm good."

"Go sit down, I'm going to find a car." Fox instructed, trying her best to contain herself.

Neither knew that Cross had been watching them.

**_Review! Review! Review! Review!_**


	14. Ivan

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted._**

**A/N:_ Sorry for not updating for a while. Life's been pretty insane. Anyways, this one is pretty long and, in my opinion, gets a bit better as it goes. Thanks for the reviews and such. Keep them coming!_**

**_Hadex: Glad youl liked it! It is a great movie. I did the same thing after watching it but was disappointed by the lack of stories, especially the lack of Fox. I have no doubt that theree are mistakes. My grammar and spelling are atrocious and none of the beta-readers I contacted responded. Sorry about any mistakes. And do not worry. I wrote the end of this fic before I wrote the end. Its actually interesting that you should suggest such a think haha. I hope you'll like it when it comes!_**

Chapter 14

Finding a seat on an ugly couch, which had been wisely disposed of outside of the apartment building, Wesley's thoughts about the kiss were interrupted, as he felt someone looking at him. Looking up, Wesley recognized the grizzly face of Cross.

"Shit!" Wesley cried, jumping to his feet and crouching behind a car as he unholstered his gun. He took a shot, which Cross deflected, by hitting it with his own bullet.

Wesley followed Cross as he ran out of the alley and crossed the busy city street. Hopping on to the hood of a car, Wesley shot at Cross and missed. As the car screeched to a halt, Wesley hopped off and sprinted after his target, ignoring the sound of metal crunching, horns honking, and people screaming vulgarity, as he caused a messy car crash.

Wesley weaved his way through the alley with ease, relying on the strength and agility developed in the week of training to catch up to Cross. Making his way out of the alley, Wesley saw Cross making his way up a large stair case. Where the stairs led, Wesley didn't know. Truthfully, he didn't care. All he cared about was catching his target.

Climbing the staircase and turning a corner, Wesley opened fire as Cross' silhouette became harder and harder to see. Halting to a stop, Wesley realized he didn't know where Cross was. Paranoia swept over him as he recognized how vulnerable he was and cursed himself for being so stupid. Turning around, Wesley sprinted down yet another turn, not knowing where it would lead him.

Wesley inched his way forward, pressing his body against the filthy wall as the sound of footsteps bounced off the walls. He fumbled with his gun, until he had it cocked and ready, and took a breath.

Wesley whipped his body around the turn, expecting to find Cross, and saw nothing. He spun around, his eyes shooting in every possible direction; no sign of him.

Wesley struggled to control the panic that was overcoming him. Time began to slow down substantially and Wesley was sure he was going to die. He had foolishly followed an outstandingly skilled assassin, who wanted his head, into an environment he knew nothing of. To make matters worse, he had lost sight of him and had nowhere to hide.

"Don't move." Came the raspy voice of Cross from the dark.

Wesley had to consciously remind himself not to scream as he heard the demand but swallowed his fear. "Cross?" he called, successfully sounding far more confident than he was. "Quit hiding Cross!"

"Don't move." Cross repeated in an agitated calmness that sent chills up Wesley's spine. He had seen Wesley lift his gun, aiming at nothing, but looking threatening while doing it.

"Get out of the fucking shadows!" Wesley screamed.

The next few seconds felt like hours. Wesley pulled the trigger, shooting in every direction furiously, after he finished his call. Not knowing where Cross was had him shooting at absolutely nothing but Cross knew where he was. In a second, Cross had pulled his own trigger, sending a single bullet into Wesley's hand, causing him to drop the gun and scream in agony.

"I told you not to move." Cross explained angrily.

Maybe it was the blood loss or maybe it was the fact that he was operating on pure adrenaline but Wesley found himself taunting the skilled assassin with a gun pointed at him.

"You're a coward Cross!" he spat. "You can't even look into a person's eyes before you kill them."

Silence on Cross' end forced Wesley to continue.

"I've studied you Cross. I've studied every move you've ever made. I know the name of every person you've killed and where and how you did it. You shoot from a distance or booby trap you're victims. Never have you…"

Wesley broke off as Cross slowly stepped into sight, a gun in his hand. He circled Wesley, watching him intently, until he was directly in front of him, standing about fifteen feet away.

"Continue" he said calmly.

Wesley remained silent as he tried to decide on his next move. He thought about using the combat training. He thought about lunging at Cross but knew that would only get him shot again. Even so, he'd probably kill him anyways. He might as well die trying.

Wesley looked at the man in front of him. His dark hair was sticking out awkwardly, looking reminiscent of Wesley's hair when he wasn't drenched in sweat. The grizzle on his cheek and chin complimented his hair, making him look wild and unstable. He had the strong, lean build of an assassin and his posture was slightly slouched. The combination made him look dangerous. It was as if he had spent too much time doing what he was doing. He had lost the thrill in the kill. It was twice as terrifying as it would have been if he still enjoyed it. Cross' blue eyes were empty and lifeless. They were the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

"You killed my father." Wesley found himself say.

Cross laughed. "Did I, now?" he asked with an amused grin. "Huh."

Wesley didn't bother trying to control the adrenaline as one of his attacks began. He watched as the man in front of him laughed over the death of his father. He was furious. He wanted to rip Cross' head off. He heaved at Cross as he laughed, his arms out and his head thrown back as he cackled maniacally. He looked absolutely insane. He was a dangerous man, holding a gun, laughing over another's man's death.

Wait.

He looked…vulnerable.

Wesley lunged, smashing into the thick body of Cross, taking him off guard. The men came crashing to the ground, giving Wesley the advantage. As he crouched over him, Wesley viciously swung at Cross, breaking his nose easily. Unfortunately, Cross had been through the same training and was even stronger. Despite his broken nose, Cross flipped over so that Wesley was under him, and got to his feet. Cross grabbed Wesley by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the wall across from them.

Wesley slammed into the cement with such force he heard his bones pop and crack. Wesley collapsed to the ground, as pain in his shoulder joined the pain in his hand. He struggled to lift himself up, as Cross picked the gun up form off the floor.

"You're a fool, Wesley." Cross stated, pointing the gun at him.

Wesley looked up and saw the gun pointed at him. He had no hope and Wesley found himself accepting the fact that he was about to die. His own gun was lying on the floor about thirty feet away and he knew that at least one of his rips was broken. That added with the myriad of other injuries kept him from going after the much more able, older man for a second time. This was it. Wesley was going to die.

Wesley thought about his mom. She hadn't been around much throughout his childhood and he had lost contact with her when Wesley moved away to college. He had nothing but hate for his mother when he was a teenager and she had faded into a faint memory over the years. Now, as he faced the barrel of the gun that was going to kill him, Wesley wished he had called her. She had given him a bed to sleep on and made sure he ate every meal. She remembered his birthday every year and always made a point of getting him something for Christmas, despite their financial situation. Looking back, Wesley saw no reason to have as much hate for her as he did. He wished he had called.

Wesley could hear footsteps as his mind wondered. They were deep inside a maze of alley roads and abandoned buildings. It was probably a homeless man or a stoner startled by the sound of voices. He hoped whoever it was would leave. Cross would kill him or her if he found them.

Wesley thought about Cathy and Barry. He wondered if they would have the decency to think about him. Would they come to his funeral? Would they cry over his death? Would they care at all?

More footsteps.

Wesley shifted his thoughts to the Fraternity. He thought about the Repairman and the Gunsmith. He was never close to either but he had developed a respect for them each. He wondered if they felt the same respect towards him.

Wesley thought about the Butcher and his merciless taunts. They had begun to enjoy their sessions together. As Wesley's skills increased, the Butcher had found himself against an even opponent and the fights called for more skill and endurance. Wesley wondered if the Butcher would miss their training.

He thought about Sloan and began to feel guilty. They had expected so much from him and Sloan had been confident he would do what they needed him to do. He was a disappointment.

The footsteps were even closer.

Wesley found himself thinking about the Exterminator. For a while, he had been the only friends Wesley had ever made. He had been the only person who had every trusted him completely and the first person Wesley trusted with ease. He thought about the conversations they had, the things the Exterminator had shown him. Wesley wished he had known the Exterminator longer.

Despite his best efforts, Wesley began to think about Fox. She was so beautiful. He thought about their train rides and the game they would play. Would she still ride that train after he was gone? He hoped she would. Fox loved that train. As ironic as it sounds, it was one of the only places Wesley had ever seen her completely relaxed. He didn't want her to lose that. He thought about their sparring sessions and the meals they ate together. She was his best friend. He wished he could have completed his mission, for her more than anything. He wanted to make her proud. God, he wanted to make her proud.

The footsteps were so loud; Wesley thought he had to be imagining them.

Wesley's mind took him back inside his old apartment and he realized it had only been about five minutes before. It felt like a lifetime ago. He remembered the feel of her lips on his. He loved Fox. He wished he could tell her. He wished they had more time.

"I expected more of you."

Wesley managed to straighten slightly. "You can't hurt me" he muttered.

It really was a ridiculous comment, seeing as to the state he was in. With at least one broken rib, something seriously wrong with his left shoulder, a bloody, probably broken, nose, a hand with a gunshot wound, and more bruises and cuts than he had earned in his visits to the Butcher and Repairman combined, it looked like Cross was fully capable of hurting him. Pointing a gun at Wesley, he looked especially capable.

The footsteps were impossible loud and Wesley was sure he was crazy. He refused to look away from Cross, though. He felt like there was a certain honor in dying while looking into the eyes of the killer.

Looking down was cowardly. Wesley wanted to die with his head held high.

"Can't I?" Cross asked with a terrifying smirk. Moving quicker than Wesley could see Cross turned to his right and shot, jumping over the edge of the balcony a second after.

In the time it took Cross to perform each action, Wesley turned his head to see what he had shot.

There, on the ground and covered in blood, was the Exterminator.

Wesley rushed to his friend's side, forgetting about Cross for the time being. "Ex-" he cried, leaning over him.

"Bulls eye" the Exterminator moaned hoarsely.

"Come on, stay with me." Wesley begged.

"My name is Ivan." The exterminator stated before coughing up a mouthful of blood.

"Dammit, stay with me!" Wesley screamed.

"I come to help you." The Exterminator, who was apparently named Ivan, explained.

"N-not your fault. I too loud."

"You good man." Ivan stated. "Good friend."

It was the last sentence that really broke Wesley.

"You good for her."

And with that, Ivan went limp.

**_Alright, that's that. Tell me what you think!_**


	15. Run for his Life

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted_**

**A/N: _Sorry for not updating in a while. I've been away visiting family. This one's very short. I didn't actually realize how short it was until I added it and saw the word count haha. I'll try to add another chapter today but don't hold me to it._**

Chapter 15

Fox ran as fast as her legs would take her, with her colleagues at her side. The Gunsmith had called in to tell the team that he had seen Wesley sprinting across South Clarke Street with his gun out and caused a major car crash. Fox, who wasn't at the Fraternity headquarters at the time, was the last to know that anything was wrong. In fact, she still wouldn't know if it hadn't been for the fact that she had found a car and driven to South Clarke Street to pick Wesley up and found herself looking and over twenty totaled cars and the Gunsmith, Repairman and Butcher weaving in and out of the scene, guns out.

She immediately knew Wesley was in trouble. Before her car had even come to a stop, she had grabbed a gun, opened the door and sprinted out to reach her colleagues. Meeting them, she demanded an explanation, which the Gunsmith delivered, adding that the Exterminator had been nearby when the Gunsmith called and trailed Wesley's footsteps.

The group sprinted down the alley road and tried their best to figure out which turns Wesley made before they heard Wesley's voice.

Just a foot behind the faster Repairman, Fox ran up the giant stair case and sprinted through the twisting halls of the cement building, trying to find the source of his voice.

"Cross!" Wesley's voice screamed, bouncing off the walls and floors, making it impossible to track him down.

The sound of bullets made Fox's stomach turn and she felt outstandingly helpless.

"Cro…" Wesley's voice began before the sound of a gunshot cut him off.

Fox picked a direction and sprinted down it, sending her team following after her. For all she knew, Fox could be getting further away from Wesley but she needed to be doing something. She couldn't just stand there.

**_Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Please review._**


	16. Don't Let it be True

**Disclaimer: _I do not own Wanted._**

**A/N:_ Look at that! Two chapters in one day. Another short one. I'm a little hesitant about this one because I'm afriad I went too far out of character with Fox. You're opinion is appreciated. Hope you like it._**

Chapter 16

Fox's knees almost gave out when she saw the bloody bodies lying on the cement floor, neither belonging to Cross. As the Repairman crouched over the Exterminator and the Gunsmith circled the hall, gun out, Fox sprinted to Wesley's side.

"Wesley?" she whispered hoarsely as her hands reached his bloody face. "W-Wesley?"

She could hear the voices of the Repairman and the Gunsmith but they morphed into the background.

"Wesley!" she screamed as he didn't answer. She didn't care about how the boys' heads whipped around at the sound of her voice. At this moment, she didn't care about anything but Wesley.

"Dammit Wesley, wake up!" she screamed again.

"Wes-!" she tried, her voice breaking off, as she found herself sobbing pathetically.

Fox took a handful of his bloody shirt, needing to hold on to something as her CPR training returned to her mind.

She didn't care about the blood on her lips as she breathed into his mouth or the fact that his bloody jacket was ruining her clothes. She just wanted to see his eyes open.

"1, 2, 3" she counted out loud, pushing on his chest until she got to thirty compressions.

Two large breaths into his moth were followed by another thirty compressions.

The sound of voices and footsteps blended together and Fox ignored them until the feel of the Gunsmith's arm on her shoulder made her jump.

"We need to get him back to the Recovery Room." He said carefully. He knew there was something between Fox and Wesley; everyone knew. Even so, he hadn't expected it to be strong enough to get her as hysterical as she was now and it scared him. The Gunsmith knew as well as anyone that Fox was dangerous when she was emotional. She was unpredictable and hostile. He did not want to be on the receiving end of those emotions.

Fox paused. It would take time to get there and she didn't want to risk it. Then again, her CPR wasn't waking him up and the Recover Room was there best bet.

"Fine."

_**So that's that. Tell me what you think. Too much for Fox? **_


	17. Groggy Eyes and Protesting Ribs

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted**_

_**A/N: Sorry about not updating. I thought I had added this two days ago but, obviously, didn't. Life has gotten a little crazy on my end. My teachers are merciless when it comes to exams and my social life, as upside down as it is, has been rather busy. Plus, I impulsively decided to join the school newspaper and those articles take up a ton of time! Anyways, I hope you guys like this. I'm personally not sure what I think about it.**_

**_ Hadex: I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the reviews!_**

Chapter 17

Wesley woke up in a panic. Sitting up so quickly his head hurt, Wesley gasped for breath, expecting to feel the uncontrollable pain he had felt before. Instead, thanks to the Recover Room bath in which he was lying, he gasped and splashed and felt a little sore to say to most. His ribs protested at the sudden movement but not to the point that he had to double over and his shoulder and hand burned from where they had been shot. Besides that, he felt okay.

Turning his head, he saw Fox, lying on a towel. His splashing woke her up and as he watched as she groggily reached consciousness, Wesley did a double take. She was dressed in a pair of oversized sweatpants and a large t-shirt and her hair was frizzed and knotted.

Fox opened her eyes slowly before realizing her surroundings and shooting up as quickly as Wesley had.

"Wesley" she whispered, her eyes wide.

Wesley didn't know how much time had passed since he had kissed her but he guessed it to be a few days by Fox's appearance. Her normally effortless beauty was replaced by an unkempt, wild mask. Her skin was pale and she looked thinner than usual. Her hands shook unnaturally and her eyes were red and sunken. She was an absolute mess.

"Hi" he answered weakly.

Fox stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out and holding his face in her hands. Wesley watched as she stared at him, reassuring herself that he was really there.

Suddenly, Fox ended the moment by doing one of the last things Wesley had expected. Grabbing him by his wet sweater and pulling up so that his torso was out of the water, Fox wrapped him into a tight hug.

Fox and Wesley held onto each other as if their lives depended on it, silently remembering how it feels to think they'd never see the other again. After a few minutes, the pair released each other.

"What happened?" Fox asked quietly, looking down at Wesley as he situated himself back into the tub, obeying his ribs' request.

"Um" Wesley began, before explaining his side of the story. He began after Fox left to get a car and ended Cross killing the Exterminator. He didn't tell her about his short conversation with the Exterminator or about how Cross curved the bullet from the ground and shot him in the shoulder, only because he found himself getting choked up and refused to cry in front of her.

Fox took a breath and picked up the story from her side. She told him how she had found the team running down the halley and how she had joined them. She told him about how they traced his steps up the stairs and how she had heard him screaming Cross' name and the gunshots. She told him about finding his unconscious body but didn't talk about how she went hysterical. She was far too proud to admit to that.

When Fox mentioned the Exterminator, Wesley was about to ask about him when she caught his expression.

"He didn't make it." She said quietly. She had known the Exterminator for eyars and his unwavering happiness had made life at the Fraternity much easier. She had seen men leave the Fraternity and come back in a body bag more times than she could count but the death of the Exterminator stung. She wouldn't be able to brush it off as she had with the others. Neither would Wesley.

Wesley's jaw clenched as his eyes spoke for him.

"By the time we got to you, he was already dead." Fox explained. "There was nothing we could do."

After a moment, Wesley nodded his head grimly. "Cross?" he asked, after a few seconds had passed.

Fox shook her head.

Wesley lifted his arm out of the bath and rested it on the gray tile, letting Fox silently take his hand in hers. They sat there silently, letting the time pass.

"His name was Ivan." Wesley almost whispered.

"Who's?" Fox asked.

"The Exterminator, his name was Ivan."

And they talked about Ivan until the sun rose.

_**And now I have homework to finish, songs to practice , and class to attend. Thanks for reading. I hope you guys liked it. Tell me what you think.**_


	18. I Now Pronounce You Dead and Responsible

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted or The Matrix._**

**_A/N: This chapter is clearly a result of my exhaustion. Whether that is a good thing or not, I'm not sure. Tell me what you think!_**

**_Hadex: Thank you!_**

**_PureDNA: Thanks for all the reviews! They really mean a lot!_**

Chapter 19

Wesley sat behind an ornate wooden desk, studying the bullet he had pulled out of his own shoulder that morning, under a microscope.

"This bullet," he said, lifting it up to show Sloan, who stood before him, and Fox, who leaned against the wall across form him, "Is the first traceable bullet he's ever used."

Wesley handed the bullet to Sloan and picked up a gritty picture of an aging man. "It was made by this man. His name's Pekwarsky. He works out of what is now a monastery in Eastern Arabia." He said, picking up a picture of the monastery. "This place is where the Fraternity was born."

Wesley put the pictures away as he stole a glance at Fox. They had departed after their long, mournful conversation about the Exterminator, who had become known as Ivan amongst the two, and went to bed. She had left before he had woken up and he hadn't seen her all day, until now. She had cleaned herself up. Her hair was no longer a knotted disaster but was combed and pinned back, out of her eyes. She had replaced the tear stains with a quick tab of makeup, just enough to bring out the green of her eyes. Now, she was leaning against the wall, with her arms crossed, as she listened to Wesley's speech. Her eyes were sad and her lips were pulled into a scowl. Wesley didn't think much of it, assuming she was upset about Ivan's death.

From the moment Fox walked into the room, she knew something was wrong. She had known Sloan for nearly ten years and had developed a skill, which allowed her to read him like a book. Every now and then, there would be a look in his eyes that would make her stomach churn. He had that look today and she didn't like it.

"He's taunting me." Wesley stated, sounding both scared and angry. "He's sending me a message and I'm going to send him one back."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. It was a statement. Fox didn't like where this was going. She caught Sloan's eye as he turned to her, begging him not to allow whatever it was that Wesley wanted. "He's trapping you." She said knowingly, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

"Leading you to a place he knows very well." Sloan finished as Fox crossed her arms.

"Look, I know this." Wesley said getting up from his seat. "This is what you trained me for."  
>Cross lifted his eyes to look at Wesley. "You can't go alone."<p>

"I go alone or he doesn't show." Wesley answered quickly. "He's not stupid."

Fox lifted her eyes to look at Wesley. He ignored her glance as she silently begged him to stop. She knew that if he left, he'd come back in a body bag if he came back at all.

"A member of the Fraternity is dead because of me."

There. He said it. Fox know how Wesley was feeling. There had been times when the same anger, the same pain, boiled in her own veins, the same bloodlust had haunted her thoughts. She knew what it was like to want someone dead, as badly as Wesley wanted to kill Cross. She also knew how badly Cross wanted him dead.

With his back to Fox, she couldn't see Sloan's expression, so his words came as a shock to her.

"Okay," he said "Go."

Fox's mouth opened to remark and she had to remind herself to shut up, as Wesley thanked Sloan, took the file, and left the room.

She waited until the second door closed behind Wesley before Fox opened her mouth. With her face down to hide the fury in her eyes, she spoke as calmly as she could..

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Fox knew that Sloan knew that he had just sent Wesley on a suicide mission. She couldn't believe he had done it. She could feel her blood boiling in her veins as she struggled to keep calm.

Without looking at her, Sloan handed a paper to her. It was almost identical to the paper he had just handed Wesley, except for the name. Fox read the name five times before her brain finally accepted that she had read it right. Then, her stomach churned so furiously that she felt nauseous and she struggled to keep her balance.

"You're next assignment." Sloan said calmly.

Fox just stared at the paper, reading the name over and over again. It was a name she knew as well as her own. In fact, just yesterday she had fantasized herself taking that name. She had thought Mrs. Wesley Gibson had a certain ring to it.

**_Thanks for reading! Please review._**

**_-G_**


	19. Nice to Meet You

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted. And I think I said in the last chapter that I don't own the Matrix. While I don't own the Matrix either, that really had absolutely nothing to do with this fic. It was a result of my exhaustion and the fact I was writing a chapter for both of my fics (the other one having a matrix reference). Sorry about that.**_

_** A/N: Study breaks are beautiful because you get all your homework done, as much studying as your brain can hold, and another half hour to yourself. That means I get to write a quick chapter with out being exhausted! Anyways, this one is short and a bit boring but necessary. I'm excited for the chapters to come! Hope you guys like it.**_

**_PureDNA: Lol I wouldn't go THAT far but I'm glad you liked it. And haha I'm not exactly sure what mainstream means in these terms but I hope you like how this turns out._**

**_Hadex: _**

Chapter 19

Wesley opened the door and stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation. Inside, he recognized a loom similar to that at the modern Fraternity headquarters. He took a few steps inside before he noticed the man sitting a few yards away. Slowly, the man got up and hurried away from Wesley.

Wesley sprinted after Pekwarsky, gun out. He passed through the chapel and into a hallway, where he noticed an open door leading to a dark room. Feeling overconfident, Wesley entered the dark room, making himself vulnerable to what came next.

"Shit" he said, slowly backing out of the room as the barrel of a gun was pressed into his forehead.

"What are you doing here?" Pekwarsky asked quietly.

Wesley was about to answer with a smart remark when a familiar voice silenced him.

"Lower your gun." Fox said, just as quietly, pressing her own gun into the back of Pekwarsky's head.

Pekwarsky paused before finally lowering his gun and allowing Fox to take it from him. Wesley glared at her, trying to translate every swear word he knew as he sighed loudly. Deciding this wasn't the time to argue with her, he swallowed and showed Pekwarsky the bullet.

"You recognize this? He asked gruffly, "I pulled this out of my shoulder. The guy who put it there killed my father. Now, I know you molded it, so tell me where he is."

Pekwarsky took a breath before answering.

"I did mold this but I can't be responsible for the people he used them…"

Pekwarsky cut short as Wesley pulled out his gun.

"I don't give a shit. Tell me where he is."

Pekwarsky hesitated before Wesley told him to look at his finger, which was just a twitch away from blowing his brains out.

"I can try to arrange a meet." Pekwarsky said grimly.

That's all Wesley needed to hear.

**_Hope you liked it. Please review :)_**


	20. Utter Lies

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted._**

******_A/N: Another study break chapter! Don't you love how teachers all assign crazy amounts of work at the same time? Anyways, I hope you like it. Tell me what you think!_**

**_Hadex: Hahaha thanks!_**

**_PureDNA: Thank you!_**

Chapter 20

Wesley and Fox hid behind a wall as Pekwarsky tried to blend in at the crowded train station. Recognizing how ridiculous the situation was, Wesley asked Fox a question. He was still mad at her from coming and, judging by the way she had been acting, she seemed to be mad it him as well. That didn't stop him from asking the question.

"Did you ever think about doing things differently?" he asked.

"How do you mean?" she asked without looking at him.

"You know," he began, not sure how to describe what he meant, "Be somebody else?" he turned to look at her. "Somebody normal?"

Fox looked down for a few seconds before looking up at Wesley.

Fox thought about it every day. She thought about it every time a new member was added to the Fraternity. She thought about it every time she left the headquarters and tried to blend in with the crowd. She thought about it every time she picked her outfit for the day and every time she held her gun. She thought about it every time she saw Wesley. The idea haunted her thoughts.

"No." she lied stoically.

The assassins looked back to Pekwarsky to find him running in the opposite direction.

"Shit." Wesley spat, pushing the door and sprinting after him.

With Fox at his side, Wesley pushed and shoved his way through the busy crowd, not carin about who he knocked down or anything, for that matter, except catching Pekwarsky. Pekwarsky was his way to Cross. He needed him.

Wesley ran, operating on pure adrenaline, until he came to an abrupt stop. He had just run past an open door on a train cart and it took a moment to recognize the face of the man in the doorway. He knew that face. It had haunted his dreams ever since he met Fox at the pharmacy. He had thought about that face every time he swung a punch and every time he shot a gun. He knew that face better than he knew his own. He obsessed over that face. That face belonged to Cross.

Spinning around, Wesley sprinted in the opposite direction, not bothering to take the time to alert Fox. Throwing the doorman out of his way, Wesley burst through the train door and tried to find Cross.

**_Hope you liked it. Please review!_**

**_-G_**


	21. Decisions Before Death

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted._**

**_A/N: Sorry about not updating in ages. I'd love to update every day but, because my schedule is insane, expect irrefular updates. Because I'm in study at school and I have five minutes left, I didn't have much time to really edit so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Besides that, I hope you guys like it!_**

**_PureDNA: Haha thanks! I'm sorry about my horrible updating schedule. _**

**_Hadex: Will do! Glad you like it :)_**

Chapter 21

Realizing that Wesley was no longer at her side, Fox slowed to a stop. Fox spun around to see a small group of tourists help a conductor to his feet as the train started down the tracks. She knew Wesley was on that train and she knew the only explanation for that involved Cross. Shit.

Fox ran out of the train station, forgetting about Pekwarsky and slid inside a tourist's car as he unloaded his bands from the trunk. She ignored his shouts as she sped away from him, trying to catch up with the train.

Focusing on the train, she tried to find Wesley. Fox was a trained assassin and a good one at that. In nearly ten years at the Fraternity, she had never missed a target. She recognized the affect her presence would have at the Fraternity. She knew she both feared and venerated amongst her colleagues. She heard their whispers and felt their stares. Fox was elite. Fox was legendary. Now, Fox was making amateur mistakes. She needed to find Wesley

Fox swerved to avoid a crash, forcing her attention to driving, as a few other cars joined her on the dirt road. Glancing back, she found him.

_Fuck_ she thought as she saw Wesley make his way down the train aisle, gun out and screaming something to someone. Assassins were supposed to be stealthy and he had already caught the attention of the entire train station as well as the train. He needed to spend more time in training. He was making immature mistakes and juvenile decisions. He was going to get himself killed.

Fox nearly jumped out of her seat as she saw Wesley's body slam against the window, arms, which she assumed belonged to Cross, wrapped around him. Fox pointed her gun, trying to steady herself enough to be able to shoot one man and not the other. Taking the shot, she swore under her breath as Cross ducked; bringing both men down so that neither were at the receiving end of the bullet. Fox sped up as she watched Cross sprint to the next cart, Wesley following a few seconds later.

Fox lost sight of the men as the train tracks began to hide behind shrubs and trees, separating itself from the road. Seeing no other option, Fox swerved left, hacking through the shrubs and slamming the stolen car through the train, interrupting the shootout between Wesley and Cross.

Fox's vision went blank for a second after her head slammed against the steering wheel. She could feel blood trickling down her temple and there was a searing pain at the right corner of her forehead at the hairline.

Recognizing the leather-clad maniac driver and understanding her intentions, Cross shot at her. For a second, Fox actually thought she was going to die. She was covered in debris and her mind was operating at the speed of a snail, thanks to the forceful contact with the steering wheel. She had no way to deflect the bullet or get out of its way. Fox was going to die.

Then, Wesley shot Cross' bullet out of the air, saving her life, and hopped over the crushed hood of the car to cover behind a seat as he reloaded. Unbeknownst to the three assassins, their train was seconds away from entering a tight tunnel. Both men silently tried to regain their breath and reloaded their weapon, ignoring the presence of the blood stained beauty that had crashed a stolen car into the train, interrupting their fight to the death. It wasn't until they entered the tunnel that the men were forced to acknowledge her.

The back end of the car crashed into the tunnel wall, shaking the car vigorously. The already bloodied and battered Fox slammed into the car walls as the men ducked out from their hiding place and shot at each other.

An attendant made the fatal mistake of pulling the emergency break, oblivious to the car part that had wedged itself into the train wheels. Wesley hopped over the car and slid open the door, trying to locate Cross, who had disappeared in the confusion. Because the assassins' lives could never be easy, the train had begun to derail, sending carts on their way into the water and slamming people, including Wesley, into walls as they plunged toward an untimely death.

Recognizing the situation, Fox shook herself free from the debris and climbed out of the car and held on to a train window, gripping it with her life, as the carts slammed against the cliff wall. Ignoring the fact that her head had been thigh had been gouged with glass and her vision was still fuzzy from the impact, Fox began to climb up the train, using the windows as a rock wall, trying to get to Wesley and Cross.

Fox panicked as the train dropped about fifty feet before catching itself again. She continued to climb, trying to use fear as a drive and not as a haunt. As an assassin, she faced death almost daily. If she wasn't killing she was learning how to kill, practicing and training so that she would never miss a target. Using her past as drive, it was easy. She had been able to rationalize the progression and forced herself into an exhausting routine to ensure that no one would have to go through what she had. With the skills developed through this training, she had lived the past decade almost as if she was indestructible. She had never been put in a position where she was forced to really think about her own death. She had been shot at, occasionally, in times like before, in times of extreme vulnerability. Even then, she wasn't given enough time to ponder over her own death, to fight for survival. Now, as Fox fought as hard as she could, Fox realized she wasn't ready to die. Fox realized that she wanted more out of life than fear and anger. She wanted to allow herself to make friends. She wanted to find a place that made her happy and didn't involve training. She wanted to decide on her favorite ice cream flavor and she wanted to have a group of friends she could talk to about boys and celebrities. She wanted to love and she wanted to be loved. Fox wanted to live.

Then, almost all of the train plunged into the water thousands of feet below them and everyone inside died.

**_Bells ringing. Got to go. Hope you like it._**

**_ -G_**


	22. Funny Way of Expressing Gratitude

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted.**_

_**A/N: Short but necessary. Hopefully I get another chapter up before the day ends. Thanks for the subscriptions!**_

_**PureDNA: lol thanks! I'm glad you're liking it!**_

_**Hadex: Thank you! And haha the end was written months ago! Hopefully you'll like it when it comes :)**_

Chapter 22

Wesley was not in a comfortable position. As he held onto the train, dangling over a river thousands of feet below him, things were looking pretty grim. He hadn't killed Cross. He had failed and he was going to die before he could try again. He wasn't ready to die. He had so much he wanted to accomplish. But, as Wesley thought about it, he was closer to being ready than he had been a few months ago.

If he died now, he would die as Wesley Gibson and he would bear the name proudly. He would be a person, be somebody, rather than the blue eyes screw-up he had been for most of his life. He would die knowing that he had accomplished things. He had made friends- real friends –who actually cared about him. He had done the impossible and he had developed skills you couldn't imagine. He had kissed the most beautiful girl in the world. Twice. He had loved the most beautiful girl in the world and he had become somebody. He had lived a decent life. If only he had killed Cross.

Then, the last thing Wesley expected happened; something that was far too good to be true.

Wesley gripped the car with everything he had but it hadn't been enough. The cart dropped another few feet, threatening to drop completely, shaking Wesley off it. Just as he had begun a drop to a cold, wet death, someone caught him.

Wesley looked up at the person who had saved his life and thought he was hallucinating. He blinked a few times, unable to rub his eyes, before accepting that his eyes weren't playing games on him. He had, in fact, been saved by the man who had been trying to kill him minutes prior; the man he had been trying to kill prior. He had been saved by Cross.

Then, Wesley unholstered his gun and shot the man who saved his life in the chest.

**_Alrighty. I'm going to try to write another chapter. Hopefully it will be longer. Thanks for reading! Pleasee review!_**

**_-G_**


	23. It Never Hurt This Much to Lie

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted._**

**_A/N: Two in one day! I'm on a roll :P. I really had no idea how to do this with Fox (you'll understand once you get there) so I hope I did it well. Tell me your opinions. Would you have done it differently?_**

Chapter 23

The cart dropped, pulling both Cross and Wesley inside, as it crashed into the cliff wall and wedged itself in between both walls. Fox, who had just barely made it inside the cart and climbed in by the time Wesley had been saved by Cross, stayed hidden behind a seat as Wesley made his way to Cross' side, pointing his gun at the dying man. She focused on catching her breath and calming her heartbeat, ripping the fabric of her pants to examine her bloodied thigh until something Cross said caught her attention.

"Everything they told you is a lie." He croaked.

He was feeding Wesley bull, trying to turn him against the Fraternity. Wesley was smart though; he wouldn't believe anything he was told. He wouldn't fall for Cross' lies.

To Fox's relief, Wesley spat profanity at Cross, refusing to hear anything he said.

"You are my son."

Fox's head jerked up so fast she lost her balance and fell onto her wounded thigh, letting out a small whimper. The men were too focused on Cross' statement to even notice. Fox was sure she heard that wrong. There was no way it could be true. She had known Wesley's father. He had been a Fraternity member and a good one at that. They had trained together. He had told stories about his son. He had…

Wait.

He had told stories about his son.

Wesley's father, her Wesley's father, had left when he was seven days old, never to return.

The man she believed to be Wesley's father visited his son whenever he could. He had known his son. He…

He had lied to her.

Fox felt nauseous as she realized how stupid she had been. Mr. X had led her to believe that he was Wesley's father. Why had he done that?

Fox stood up slowly as she made the realization she didn't want to make. There was only one reason Mr. X would lie about his son. Sloan had been involved.

"Is it true?" Wesley asked when he saw her.

_Tell me he lied_ Wesley silently begged._ Tell me he lied and I didn't just kill my father. Tell me-_

"Yes." Fox answered, not knowing what else to say. As she unwillingly began to see things in a new light, things began to make sense. Why would a Fraternity member go rogue? What would he get for killing the good guys?

Nothing.

Now, what if the rogue assassin wasn't killing the good guys? What if he, in fact, was the good guy and his targets were the bad guys? What if Sloan had a secret that Cross had discovered; a dark secret Cross couldn't live with? Then, going rogue would be rational. Sloan would have named Cross a psychopath gone rogue and sent the best after him. Eliminating Cross would ensure that his secret, whatever it is, was kept. Now, cross is a highly skilled professional killer, fully capable of taking any one he wants out. Sloan couldn't send any of his men out of they would have ended up like Ian. No, he had to send out the only person Cross wouldn't hurt; Wesley.

The realization made her knees weak but Fox kept her stoic expression, hoping her bloodied face made her look intimidating rather than weak. If her assumptions were true, she needed to know what Sloan's secret was. Knowing Wesley, he would react in the most dangerous way possible and get himself the same name his father had. She needed to make everyone, including Wesley, think her loyalties belonged to the Fraternity to figure out the truth.

"Why did you make me do this?" Wesley asked hoarsely.

Why did it hurt so much to see him cry? Why couldn't he make this easier for her? Covers had never been hard for her. Now, more than ever, she needed to stick to her cover. Why did he have to make it so difficult?

"Because you are the only person he wouldn't kill." Fox answered, hiding her emotions behind a flat voice.

"You knew god dammit." Wesley whispered, almost to himself. "You knew the entire time."

Fox thought fast and remembered her last assignment. A flash of anger swept through her and she was thankful Wesley wasn't watching her face. Sloan had given her the assignment. He needed Wesley out of the picture just like Cross. God dammit.

"Well, his name came up," Fox said coldly, "And so did yours."

Wesley didn't wait to hear any more before he shot the window out from under him and sent himself plunging into the river below.

**_I think I'm done for the day. Might get bored though. You never know. Anyways, please remember to review. I always love constructive criticism so don't be afraid to give it lol. Hope you liked it!_**

**_-G_**


	24. Manipulation

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted.**_

_**A/N: Another study hall chapter. We're getting closer to the end and I'm getting excited about it so I might end up uploading another chapter later today. Hope I got this right. Tell me what you think.**_

_**PureDNA and Hadex: I hope you guys don't mind me grouping you together. I just exed (xed? xd?) out of the tab that had who said what and I'm too lazy to get it back again to see who said what. Thank you for the praise! Glad you're liking it. And I'm glad you thought Fox was cold. I was afraid I made her part too corny. Thanks!**_

Chapter twenty something

Fox woke up in the Recovery Room and felt the familiar melancholy she had grown used to since the Exterminator had died. Since then, Fraternity members had been avoiding the Recovery Room at all costs. He had an uncanny way of weaving his way through the cracks of each assassin's wall and making a place for himself in each of their cold hearts. No one wanted to be reminded of the pain that came with the loss of a friend.

Fox held herself underwater just long enough to have her lungs gasping for air once she sat up. The past few days had wiped her. She was depending on adrenaline to get her through the day.

Lifting herself out of the bath, Fox grabbed a towel and made her way out of the Recovery Room. Fortunately, no one was in the halls and Fox was given some much needed solitude as she made the long journey to her room. She walked at a pace that would have lost a race to a turtle and took in everything she saw. Nothing in the Fraternity gave any clue to its corruption. Nothing hinted at Sloan's twisted goals. Fox had no way of knowing if she was fighting for the wrong team. She found herself wondering the other would have still fought for Sloan, even if they knew his motives.

God, what if they did know?  
>Fox pushed the thought out of her mind before paranoia could drown her.<p>

Shoving open the door to her room, Fox's heart skipped a few terrifying beats and gasped so suddenly she became lightheaded. By her dresser, examining the feeble items that covered the top stood Sloan, who either didn't notice or was pretending not to notice Fox's uncharacteristic response to his presence.

Still dripping wet from the bath and dressed in nothing but a towel, Fox kept her expression blank as a single question screamed inside her head.

Did he know that she knew?

Fox slid behind her wall and dressed into a pair of leggings and a long white shirt she had left on the floor.

"You failed." Sloan said, sounding exactly like he normally did. Something about his preacher-like tone put Fox on edge. The tone that had always put her at ease was suddenly thick with betrayal. Now, Fox heard how easy it was to be manipulated by Sloan. He was dangerously good at it.

"He jumped before I could shoot" Fox protested flatly.

"No" Sloan corrected, just as flatly, "He jumped when you hesitated."

Fox stepped out from behind the wall and scowled. "What are you getting at?"

Sloan placed the old jewelry box back on Fox's dresser and turned around to face her. A few days ago, Fox loved this man like a father. Now, he terrified her.

"Come." He said calmly before turning around and stepping out of the room.

Fox followed Sloan through the hall until they reached the library. They slid past men Fox didn't even know belonged to the Fraternity as they made their way up the stairs, finally reaching the library floor and joining the elite team, consisting of Fox as well as the Gunsmith, Butcher, and Repairman.

Fox stepped next to the Repairman as the Fraternity members circled around Sloan, keeping a few yards' diameter of distance.

"Over the past few weeks," Sloan began, "Many of you have met Wesley Gibson. Those of you who haven't met him probably know who he is."

As heads nodded their agreement, Fox flashed back to about a month prior. She had been standing in a similar position in this exact room, surrounded by every Fraternity member stationed at the Headquarters, as she listened to Sloan's speech. Only that time, it had been Cross' name, not Wesley's.

"Wesley Gibson" Sloan's voice boomed, bouncing off of the cement, "Has lost sight of what is good and what is just. He could not handle the power given to him. He has the power of a wolf when he is, in fact, still a sheep."

Fox felt the eyes move from Sloan to her as he spoke. She had trained Wesley. She had given him said power. More than that, she had befriended Wesley. She had loved Wesley. Whether the eyes were blaming her for releasing a psychopath into the city or if they were merely curious as to her reaction, they all stared.

"Wesley is a trained killer. He is capable of profound evil. He proved that yesterday evening when he derailed a train in Eastern Arabia, killing hundreds of innocent people and almost killing one of our own."

The few eyes that had been polite enough to remain watching Sloan was now on Fox. They burned her flesh like hot rods and Fox prayed she was only imaging her knees wobbling.

"Wesley is a dangerous and he's coming for us next."

Fox listened intently as a plan was made and assassins were assigned places, times and weapons.

God, she hoped she trained him well.

**_Tell me what you think. Please review._**


	25. All Along

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted._**

**_A/N: Pushing time right now. Bell rang a few seconds ago and I'm still writing. Hope you like it!_**

Chapter 25

Wesley woke up, expecting to see the familiar dark gloom of the Recovery Room and, instead, saw the interior of an apartment he had never been inside before.

A million questions shot through his head at once.

_Where am I?_

_Whose apartment is this?_

_How did I get here?_

_Who has one of these baths in their apartments?_

_Where's Fox?  
>Is she okay?<em>

_Why am I worried if she's okay?_

Wesley breathed deeply and slowly, pushing the questions out of his head long enough for his heart to beat slowly and him to be able to dress in to the pair of dry pants waiting for him.

Stepping out of the room, Wesley recognized the familiar, hideous scenery through the window in the room he was headed to. This apartment looked directly toward his old apartment.

Wesley stepped toward the window and looked at that which was once his. Inside, he could see Cathy pacing around the room, talking on the phone.

"I promised your father I'd bring you back."

Wesley spun around so quickly that his neck hurt and felt his heart beat double its normal speed.

"What the fuck?" Wesley cried in shock, breathing deeply.

"He said it was the only way you'd believe him." The man sitting in a chair a few feet away from Wesley answered. Wesley recognized him as Pekwarsky.

Noticing the framed pictures on the furniture surrounding them, Wesley passed Pekwarsky and picked them all up. He shuffled through them each, recognizing the baby boy who looked back at him.

He stared at the photo on top and remembered where it had been taken. It had been years ago and Wesley was nine. His mom had recently started dating the man, who would become his step-dad for exactly four months before they separated, and Wesley was meeting him for the first time. Bill, the man who would become his step-dad, was in the picture. The back of his head and side of his face took up most of the frame but it was the boy behind him that was making Wesley hyperventilate. That boy, dressed in a pair of corduroy pants and a black jacket, with the goofy smile and awkward hair, who was sitting on the seat of his soon to be step dad's crappy motorcycle, was a nine year old Wesley Gibson.

Wesley looked at the next picture and recognized it as his third grade class photo. He was dressed in a blue collared shirt and striped time and his hair looked awkward even though it had been combed. To perfect the picture, Wesley had morphed his lips into something that was supposed to be a shy smile but actually just proved to the world that he was pathetic.

The next picture was recent and had been taken in the room Wesley was sitting in. Cross had taken the picture through the windows as Wesley sat on the couch in his apartment.

He had been there all along.

Wesley tried his best to choke down the tears that were forcing their way up to the surface and failed miserably at calming his breathing.

Pekwarsky watched silently as Wesley took in the information, confirming the truth to himself. Finally, he looked up.

"He was my father."

Wesley's voice was choked and hoarse when he said it, almost to himself. Pekwarsky remained silent, knowing there was more.

"And I killed him." Wesley finished.

"To your father," Pekwarsky began "Protecting you was worth giving up his life."

At this, Wesley smiled the disbelieving, unstable smile that made hairs stick up and goose bumps appear.

"Protect me?" Wesley asked with a small laugh.

Wesley's smile faded quickly and his eyes darkened. He looked just as unstable as he had a second ago but now he was furious. A homicidal glint gleamed in his eyes and Pekwarsky read the bloodlust in his expression.

"He was trying to fucking kill me!"

"No." Pekwarsky corrected calmly, getting up as he spoke, "He wasn't trying to kill you. He was trying to rescue you.

"When Cross left the Fraternity, Sloan hunted you down. Ever since Fox had her teeth in you, he's been trying to separate you from them."

Wesley felt a new wave of rage poor over him as Fox's name was mentioned. It was a different rage. It wasn't the kind of rage that made people punch holes in walls and, in extreme conditions, kill people. This was the kind of rage that was really pain. The kind of rage that was easier to deal with then the pain.

"Your father never wanted you in the fraternity. He wanted a different path for you."

Wesley turned away from Pekwarsky in denial, as if that would keep the truth from being true.

"Things that he could never have" Cross continued "A home. Peace.

"He wanted you to find your own way." Pekwarsky finished.

**_Please review :)_**


	26. Silence

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted.**_

_**A/N: I'm not sure if I hate this or like it. It's extremely repetitive and that's almost always a really awful thing but I used it for some reason. I don't know. It's also short. bleh.**_

_**Melanie: I'm glad you like it. The end of this story was written before any other chapters months ago so you'll see soon enough :).**_

_**PureDNA: I'm glad because I love reading your reviews :)**_

_**Hadex: Hahaha Wow! Those are crazy words. I'm extremely flattered :)**_

_**Thechii: Hey! New reviewer :). I love new reviewers :). Thank you so much for reviewing, it really means a lot. Thank you thank you thank you!**_

Chapter 26

Over the next day and a half, Fox spoke very little. She was never very talkative but this was a new kind of silence. It was the kind of silence that everyone noticed but no one though much of because everyone thought they understood.

Fox was silent because she was scared. She was scared that something would happen to Wesley. She was scared that everyone but her knew about Sloan and that she had been lied to her entire life. She was scared that everyone she everyone she ever trusted had betrayed her. She was scared that her colleagues would be killed. She was scared that her colleagues wouldn't be killed.

Fox was silent because she was sad. Not the kind of sad that comes after watching a movie where the dog dies or when you find out that a celebrity you really liked had died. The kind of sad that comes when you've been betrayed and when you've been abandoned. The kind of sad that comes when you realize that the person you trust the most has lied to you about everything that the people you have come to know as friends, as family even, may or may not have lied as well. The kind of sad that comes when disaster comes immediately after pure joy so that the happiness is a memory before it is supposed to have faded away. The kind of sad that comes when the emotions that followed watching her father be burned alive and getting the initials of a psychopath branded into your neck return after ten years because the distractions turns out to be a lie. The kind of sad that comes after you leave the person you love and don't know if you'll ever see them again or if they'll come back to you if you do.

Fox was silent because she was angry. She was angry at Sloan for lying and betraying and for living and for taking her in and for treating her like family and for being a bastard. She was angry at her colleagues for potentially knowing and, if they didn't know, she was angry at them for not finding out. She was angry at Mr. X for lying to her and for getting killed before she could confront him about it. She was angry at Cross for letting her believe he was the bad guy. She was angry at Wesley for being so easy to fall in love with and she was angry at him for bringing up so many emotions.

Fox was silent.

_**Please tell me what you think. If you absolutely hated the repetition, which I've decided I do but I'm too tired and far too update-overdue to rewrite a new chapter, I'm glad to hear it. If you liked it, well that makes me happy to haha. Don't be scared of putting up constructive criticism. I love it :)**_


	27. Rats and Explosives

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted._**

**_A/N: I really, really don't like this chapter. I absolutely HATE posting chapters I'm unhappy with but I have a relatively good reason this time. For a few reasons, one of which being I feel bad keeping you guys waiting SO long, another being because this is one of those extremely rare nights where my homework was at a minimum and I only had one test and one quiz to study for so I had some free time and don't want to waste it, and finally because my other fic has run me into a ditch and I'm not sure where its going so I want to spend time on focusing on being clever with it. So, because band practice's adrenaline has not worn off and I'm far from tired and because I don't have anything to do, I'm going to write as many chapters as I can. I'm getting very close to the end. I'm thinking at most, two chapters after this one. I want to finish this fic tonight. Also, I got a lot of reviews and those motivated me to write :)_******

**_thechii: I'm glad :). Looks like you won't have to wait much longer :)_**

**_Hadex: Haha I know what you mean...I think :P  
>Celtic Memories ch.22: Thank you. I understand what you mean. I think I was really anticipating the aftermath so I sort of went with that initial "i can't believe I'm dying before I killed Cross" thing and then jumped strait to his death and then Wesley's grief. I'm sort of notorious for getting to excited about parts and skipping the less exciting yet equally important parts. It's definitely something I need to work on. Thanks for the review!<em>**

**_Celtic-Memories ch23: Thank you! I was worried about that chapter so I'm glad you liked it._**

**_Celtic-Memories ch24: Don't worry, it sent with your username :). Haha I'm glad! I've never been good with suspense. Actually, I've been downright awful at it. It's nice to know I've improved haha._**

**_Celtic-Memories ch26: Really? I'm glad! Thanks for all the reviews!_**

Chapter 27

Wesley drove the truck through the Fraternity gate and into the parking lot. They didn't know what was in the truck and they probably didn't care.

He knew what was in the truck and the thought of it made him want to laugh.

Wesley avoided the bullets as they rained down on him. Pressing the button with the barrel of his gun, Wesley opened the back of the truck and let its contents pour out.

Wesley wondered what was going through the assassins' heads as they saw the rats pour out of the truck and into the Fraternity. They probably didn't understand. Sloan did, though. Wesley was sure of it. Sloan knew what Wesley had done. Wesley could imagine the coward running; letting his men die for him as he pretended to be an assassin of fate.

By the time Wesley had stepped out of the truck, his rats were already causing havoc. They were in the Butcher's room. They were in the Recovery room. They were in the Repair room. They were in the mill and they were in the library. They were pissing everyone off.

They were perfect.

Wesley climbed under the truck and watched his timer count down from ten.

Wesley covered his head with his hands, a gun in each, as the timer neared zero.

Three

Two

One

BOOM

Every rat in every room exploded, blasting windows and killing men. Wesley climbed to his feet and sprinted toward the window, avoiding the debris as it flew.

Wesley crashed through the window, causing more havoc in a room that was already in absolute chaos. Before he even got to his feet, Wesley had opened fire and killed two men. Pulling the trigger of each gun as his feet touched the floor, he killed another two.

Wesley tore his way through the mill, grabbing the guns of the other men as he ran out. By the time he got out of that room, everyone in it was dead.

That includes the Repairman.

Wesley climbed up the stairs, doing his best to ignore the pain that came with the gun wound in his shoulder. He was a killing machine but that didn't make him bulletproof. Wesley climbed and climbed, jumping when he needed to, and eventually, got to the Butcher's room.

He couldn't see anyone but he knew the Butcher was there. He could feel the eyes on him. Noticing it just in time, Wesley jumped out of the way of a knife, thrown silently and forcefully from the skilled hand of the Butcher.

Wesley spun around, not seeing anything until it was too late. The Butcher flew past Wesley, slicing him on his way by.

Wesley opened fire, shooting nothing in the room of a man who hated guns and hated him.

Taking advantage of Wesley's fear and paranoia, the Butcher ran past for a second time, cutting Wesley's leg and forcing him to his knee.

Wesley could hear the Butcher now. He recognized the quiet whisper of the big man. He remembered the merciless taunt that had started on day one. The same rage poured through him.

Wesley turned in time to see the Butcher and opened fire. The Butcher deflected every bullet with his knives; a skill he had taught Wesley only a week before.

Once he got close enough, the two men fought just like they had every day for two months. This time was different, though. This time, they were actually trying to kill each other. This time, Wesley had a bullet wound amongst other serious injuries. This time, the Butcher had the clear advantage.

This time, the Butcher ended up dead.

Wesley stumbled out of the Butcher's room and reloaded his gun. He hopped into the library and screamed Sloan's name.

That's when things got interesting.

**_So that's that. I'll be back soon :)_**


	28. When the Circle Collapsed

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted_**

**_A/N: Hey guys. Remember when I said I had already written the end? Here it is. This was written MONTHS ago and then rewritten tonight to make more sense. I ended up writing another chapter but I'm going to save that for tomorrow because it's past midnight. This chapter had over 9 pages on my word document! It took more time then I expected. Hopefully I didn't demolish it with typos but I wouldn't be surprised. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it._**

Chapter 28

Fox's heart was beating a mile per minute. She could hear the commotion from the Butcher's room. She could hear Wesley's cries. She could hear the grunts and screams. Her heart had stopped every time she heard the shot of a bullet or the ring of a blade. Finally, she heard the barbarous scream that followed the life-taking grunt and Fox's eyes closed. She knew the Butcher was dead. Relief flooded through her as her stomach sank and the contradicting reaction was confusing and painful. She hated this. Why couldn't she be an unmarried lawyer with no kids who thought Brad Pitt was hot and discussed said topic with her best friends on Friday nights?

She heard the irregular beat of footsteps and watched Wesley limp into the library. Her jaw clenched she saw his injuries. Blood was pouring down the side of his face and scratches and cuts covered the side where it wasn't. He had a serious wound by his shoulder that may or may not be a bullet wound and the Butcher has sliced up his leg. He was a wound.

"SLOAN!" Wesley roared. It was her cue. She knew she had to go. She wasn't ready, though. She couldn't keep her face stoic. She couldn't pretend to be on Sloan's side as she stared at him in that condition. She couln-

Fox whipped her body around the column at exactly the right time and pointed her gun at the man she loved. No one could see the fear in her eyes or the quiver in her lips. She was thankful for that.

Wesley spun around slowly and took in the faces of former colleagues. He had considered these people friends, his family, eve, just days prior. Now, they were pointing their guns at him, waiting for the kill order. He recognized the Gunsmith and smiled slightly at the irony of it all. He spun around, recognizing every face and knowing the names of many, eyes lingering on Fox just long enough to make both of their hearts melt a little inside. He thought she was on the other side. She thought he was going to die thinking so.

Sloan walked into the library, slowly and calmly. His expression was stoic and his posture was remarkable. His suit tailored to perfection, not a single wrinkle apparent. Both Wesley and Fox's stomach churned when he came into sight.

Fox watched as Wesley reached into his coat pocket and recognized the coat for the first time. It had belonged to Cross before he had died. It had belonged to Wesley's father. Now, it was his. This was a horribly sad humor in that.

"My father wasn't a traitor." Wesley proclaimed, in between breaths. Fox wasn't sure if he was talking to them or to Sloan, but she listened intently anyways. She wanted to know what he had found out. No, that was a lie. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to know how dishonest Sloan had been. She didn't want to know how big of a fool she had been for placing her trust in the wrong person. She needed to know, though. Even though it hurt, she needed to know.

Wesley pulled out a piece of cloth that took everyone but Sloan a while to recognize. "This is a kill order." Wesley stated, as if they didn't already know, placing it on the table in front of him.

"And it's got Sloan's name on it."

The eyes of everyone in the room, with the exception of Wesley and Sloan, dilated to about three times their normal size. Anyone that was drowning him out before was now listening intently. They hadn't expected him to say that, not even Fox.

"What did you say to me?" Wesley asked Sloan as Fox eyed the cloth sitting on the table, nonchalantly. It was as if it didn't recognize its significant, as if it didn't know it had just blown everyone's mind.

"It's a name. It's a target. I don't want this person dead. Fate does." Wesley quoted, his words dripping with sarcasm and hate that gave in the strongest assassins chills.

Wesley started laughing. It was a short, quiet chuckle but it unnerved everyone in the room. It displayed his instability. It was tired and it was crazy. In summary, it was terrifying.

"And he couldn't take it," Wesley continued, returning to the group of assassins. "So he started manufacturing his own targets for his own gains. And that's when my dad found out and decided to stand against him."

Everyone stiffened slightly at the word "dad" no one in the room except Wesley, Sloan and Fox knew who Wesley's dad was but they probably predicted the truth already. The proclamation had already shown his insanity as reality. It made sense.

"And that's when," Wesley began, shifting back to Sloan, "You sent a man's son to kill his father."

Fox's hands were shaking now and she knew that anyone who was watching her could see her gun bobbing up and down. She struggled to keep her knees from giving out or her legs to carry her to Wesley's side and do something irrational. In her peripheral vision, she could see a few heads, including that of the Gunsmith, turning to look at Sloan as Wesley spoke and she was glad. If they hadn't already known, they were silently questioning him. Good.

"You're not an assassin of fate, Sloan. You're just a thug who can bend bullets."

The statement was made quietly but its significance was huge. Everyone in this room had respected Sloan as if her were a god. They had loved him like a father and obeyed him like a king. Belittling him was unheard of. Now that they heard it, it sounded right. Everyone in the room had a flash of uncertainty as they questioned their loyalties.

Wesley nodded and everyone in the room thought he was done. His speech was over and everything was done now. No one could see any possible comeback. Almost unwittingly, they all thought it was over.

Then, Wesley lifted his gun, shocking his enemies before they could do anything about it. Fox, on the other hand, was not an enemy. She was a girl who killed people. She was the girl who he was in love with and who was in love with him. She was a girl who he thought was on the other side but really wasn't. She was a girl whose training came before the thought and who shot the gun out of Wesley's hand.

The sound of the bullet startled everyone but Sloan and, when they found out who shot it, shocked them all. Wesley slowly turned back around and looked at Fox. She hadn't though before she pulled the trigger but she had been glad she had done it, in a regretful kin of way. Any doubts Sloan had about her loyalties left when she did so. Then, Wesley turned around and looked her in the eye and she would have done anything to take it back. His eyes weren't angry. They weren't crazy and homicidal. They weren't displaying his physical pain or his fear. They were sad. They were the saddest eyes Fox had ever seen and it absolutely broke her heart. She wanted to cry when she knew those sad eyes were because of her.

"Is it true?" she asked, keeping her eyes on Wesley and gun pointed, as much as it hurt her.

For the first time since he entered the room, Sloan moved. He pulled out a file from behind his back and silently opened it. Lifting the top page, he began to speak.

"Here is what the truth is." Sloan stated. He handed the paper to the Gunsmith, who lowered his gun to look at it.

"Your name came up."

Every stomach twisted, every set of eyes dilated, every pair of knees threatened to buckle and every pair of hands shook. No one had expected that.

Sloan stepped toward Fox and handed her a piece of paper. "Your name came up."

For the first time since Arabia, Fox's blood didn't boil in Sloan's presence. Instead, she stared at him the way she did when they first met. She stared at him with big green eyes that had watched the torture and murder of her father. Big green eyes that were scarred and uncertain and didn't want to hear what he was saying. Her right hand quivering, she continued to point her gun at Wesley as she freed her left hand to hold the paper. She looked at the paper and read it twice.

Finally, Fox lifted her eyes to see Wesley. His posture had sunken significantly as he realized Sloan's speech would outshine his. More than that, Fox saw is eyes. Perfectly matching hers, they were scarred and uncertain. They didn't want to hear it either. He looked defeated and miserable and they were accepting the fact that he was about to die. Fox didn't know what to do. She continued to stare at him as Sloan circled the room, dropping papers on the floor by the feet of those whose names were on them. She couldn't even hear Sloan's voice anymore. Fate had wanted her dead. The code wanted her dead.

"If I had not done what I did," said Sloan, shaking everyone out of their thoughts and breaking the eye contact between Wesley and Fox, "You would all be dead."

Sloan took a few more steps before putting the icing on the cake.

"I saved your lives."

Fox flinched at his words and Wesley exhaled in defeat.

"Now look where we are. We are stronger than ever, changing the course of history as we see it, choosing the targets we select."

Eyes shot from person to person as Wesley silently panicked and Sloan sounded more and more convincing.

"We can redistribute power where we see fit. The wolves rule, not the sheep."

Everything from his heavy breathing to his insecure eyes displayed the utter defeat Wesley felt.

"Now, if any of you feel the need to follow the code of the Fraternity to the letter, I invite you, to take your gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the trigger. That is what Wesley demands."

Sloan smirked confidently for a moment and Fox scowled as she recognized a losing battle.

"Otherwise," Sloan began, telling Fox that no good was going to come out of whatever comes next, "Shoot this motherfucker, and let us take our Fraternity of assassins to heights reserved to only the gods of men."

Sloan began to walk away as he made his final statement. "You chose."  
>Wesley just stood there. He was facing the barrel of at least eleven guns and he had nothing to do about it. He had no gun. He had no way out, he had no chance at fighting and no strength left in him to try. Wesley was sure he was going to die.<p>

"Fuck the code." The Gunsmith declared, telling Fox everything she needed to hear.

She looked at Wesley, willing him to look at her. When he finally did, she silently begged him to understand. He read her so well over the past few weeks. Now more than ever, he needed that skill. He needed to read her eyes; understand what she was saying. Everyone stood silently as the Gunsmith cocked his gun and a smile appeared on Fox's lips. It was a smile that reflected Wesley's laugh. It was unstable. It was terrifying.

Wesley understood. He began to think like Fox and understand her reasoning. He realized that the conversation on the train had been an improved act. It all had been. It all made sense. He would have felt relieved if it hadn't been for the smile. It caught his attention an unnerved because he knew it meant something. She was about to do something but Wesley didn't know what. She was about to-

And then she did it and Wesley's heart stopped beating and everything, except Fox, just froze.

Fox flung her arm around and pulled the trigger. It was funny, if you think about it, how simple the action is. There's no effort in pulling a trigger. It's not heavy. It's not time consuming. It's so painfully easy to pull a trigger and yet the result is so tragic.

Fox flung the gun toward Wesley, shaking him out of his shocked stupor, as he caught it.

Wesley watched as the bullet flew. It tore through the air. It went through the Gunsmith's head, killing him instantly, and then into the next man's. One by one, assassins fell to their death and Wesley had a long thought and made a rather complex decision in a very short period of time.

A little over two months ago, he had been no one. He had been Wesley Gibson; the insignificant fuck-up that was abandoned by his father when he was seven days old and who worked as an account manager and lived with a girlfriend, that slept with his best friend, who he couldn't stand but it was better than being alone. Then, he met Fox, and in two months, he learned a lot. Through the sweat and the tears and the blood, there had been lessons learned. That girl, that gorgeous, insane girl, made a man out of him. In sparring sessions and capture the flag games, in meals at the awkward times of the day and in the occasional heart-felt conversations, Fox taught him how to kill and how to survive. In that, she unwittingly taught about life. She taught him how to live. Then, she taught him what it's like to have a friend and, eventually, what it's like to love and be loved.

That was the most important thing. He was undeniably in love with that woman and h was pretty sure she was in love with him. He was going to kiss her again. He was going to let her tell the story about her father again and, this time, he was going to let her cry when she did and he was going to hold her. He was going to make her dinner, just because, and he was going to buy her flowers because they reminded him of her, even if she didn't like flowers. He was going to hold her hand when they walked together and wrap his arm around her waist as he hug her from behind, when they stood together. He was going to tell her she looked beautiful every day because she always did. More importantly than all of that, he was going to tell her that he loved her because he never did that and it needed to be done.

Neither was going to die before that was said.

That was final.

Wesley watched as the bullet tore through another head and neared its final victim. He watched as a small smile appeared on Fox's lips and she had planned on keeping it there as the bullet entered her brain. Then, Wesley's lips twitched into an identical smile and hers faltered.

Wesley whipped his gun out and pulled the trigger violently. He ran toward Fox, ready to collide into her body and send it crashing to the ground. He had done this a thousand times before but he had never been so nervous about it. Before, it was his life on the line. Now, it was Fox's. He cared about her life twice as much as he did his. Wesley sprinted toward Fox, preparing for the impact that would come when their bodies collided. If his first plan didn't work, he was going to get her out of the bullet's way. He didn't care about the cost.

The final body fell as the bullet sored. Fox's bullet was getting so close to her head. Fox was running but she seemed so far away. The bullet was so close. He couldn't move faster. It's so close.

Wesley's body slammed into Fox's and his arms wrapped around her head as they slammed to the floor forcefully.

Everything hurt

**_AHHHHH! _**

**_Alright. Good? Bad? Not sure? Pleaseeee tell me what you think about this one! Also, I'd like to point out that, while upsetting for Fox fans like myself, I think the occurrences in the actual movie were brilliantly. This story is in no way belittling the brilliant writing done by those responsible for this masterpiece of a movie. I think Fox's actions, which led to her death, were perfectly in character. She did exactly what she would have done, had this been a real story. Basically, I think what actually happened in the movie was brilliant and I am in no way claiming that this is a better turn out. It's merely a Fox fan's attempt at fanfiction :)_**


	29. The Alternate Ending

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted_**

**_A/N: This is feeling pretty sentimental. This is the final chapter of my first completed fic. I'm going to miss you guys! Anywho, after rewriting this what feels like 14758632970 times, I have finally produced something to end with. I really hope you guys like it and I want to thank you SOOOO much for everything you guys have done! You guys are awesome!_**

Sloan was famous for being extremely kempt. His suits were always ironed to perfection and his decorously groomed facial hair silently hinted at power and wealth. He was known to be maniacally well-organized and his expensive taste was particular and strict. He was known to spend much of his time in his library and, as a result, it was known to be perfect. The shelves reach high toward the ceiling, each of which holding the exact maximum of books. The furniture was antique and the artworks were original. This room had been furnished when the Fraternity moved in and there had never been a misplaced book nor rug with a folded corner, for longer than a few moments. Now, things were disastrous.

The staircase leading down is missing significant pieces and the others, while still connected, would break under the slightest weight. Books lay scattered on the dusty floor, torn pages laying still in the dead air. A few books, including _The Complete Works of Charles Darwin_, _Einstein: His Life and Universe_, _A Brief History of Time, _and _Catcher in the Rye, _had been wounded in the gunfire and the antique desk had crumbled, as a result of a broken leg.

By each pillar lay a person; the youngest of which being nineteen and the oldest being thirty six. Each person had a family and friends. Two had children and one had a wife, whom he kept in touch with secretly, despite the dangers. All but two had living parents and all but three had living siblings. One enjoyed writing and was two chapters away from finishing his first novel. He had been writing the story for over five years and planned to have it published, after leaving the Fraternity.

All but one lay on the once comfortable floor, a bullet lodged inside their bodies, as their systems shut down, one by one. All but two lay dead, their families never to know their fate and hopes and wishes lost and forgotten. Of the two living, one is male and one is female. The male, having been wounded badly in the events prior, is losing blood at a dangerous rate and the female is in shock. From under his wounded body, her mind has frozen between the terror of death, the agony of attempted suicide and the pure fury at meddled plans. Her limbs are rigid and her expression frozen. It is not until the man lifts himself into a position more comfortable for both of them that her mind begins to slowly work again.

Her body struggling to decide on which emotion to act upon, she characteristically choses anger, and lets it drip into her words.

"You should not have done that." Fox says coldly.

Wesley opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a coughing fit that leaves the taste of blood in his mouth. In between his coughs, he counters her remark.

"I think it's the best decision I've ever made." He croaks.

Fox, having no words to say, glares at him with such ferocity; he would have shivered, had he not grown immune to glowers.

Wesley's position suggests that his intentions involve standing but, as another bloody coughing fit begins, he is caught off-balance and falls onto his wounded shoulder. The pain that results draws a sharp, instinctive cry from his lips and Fox's compassion, which was nonexistent before he entered her life, snaps her out of her anger.

Helping him to his feet and allowing him to lean his weight onto her shoulder, she drags him out of the Fraternity, careful to avoid people and cameras.

The idea of trusting her with his wounds was a surprisingly comfortable one for Wesley and, after a while, he was able to operate as usual.

With her help, he constructed a clever and horribly dishonoring assassination of Sloan, which was successful.

Sloan being their last victim, Wesley, who changed his name to Wes Cross, moved to New York City with his shockingly beautiful best friend and lived with her in an apartment for four years.

After that, on her birthday, he proposed to her.

She said yes.

Then, Wes Cross moved to Connecticut with his fiancée and bought a two story house in a child-friendly suburban neighborhood.

Three years after their marriage, their first child was born. They named him Ivan.

Two years after that came their daughter, Eva, was born.

Ivan and Eva were unwittingly given a gift that their parents' never received but always dreamed of; a normal life. Wes Cross became Dr. Cross and earned the respect of his colleagues as a professor at Yale University. Fox also became a Dr. Cross and became an equally well-respected pediatric nurse. Ivan and Eva both made their way through grade school. Ivan was an extremely talented baseball pitcher, who had to deal with his obnoxiously embarrassing mother at every game until high school, in which her cheers were drowned out by the large crowd. Eva, who took ballet all the way through college, maintained impressive grades and developed opinions so clear, her father used to joke about how alike she and her mother were.

Every now and then, the lives of Ivan and Eva would shift to slightly peculiar when they would awake in the night to hear her mother's seemingly unprovoked sobs and father's hushed comforts. They never heard about what happened to their grandfather or about the truth of their parent's meetings. The memories that haunted their mother, particularly that of her code-provoked suicide attempt, changed her usually confident, smiling personality but the reasons were never explained to them.

Every now and then, their parents would argue as parents would. Whether it is in anger or sorrow, their mother would, on occasion, ask their father why he saved her, whatever that meant.

Their father was known to give the same answer each time this question was asked; each time with such sincerity it shocked them.

"Because I love you" he would say.

And that was that.

**_THE END._**

**_-G_**


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